


Conspiracy Theory

by atrees



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 11:32:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15662394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atrees/pseuds/atrees
Summary: Republic City. The corruption, the violence, the squalor. Beneath the surface lies a vast criminal underworld of sleazy gangs and sleazier politicians. It's an ugly, convoluted business, but then again, that's why nobody else has my job. Me. The Avatar. I'm a private eye. Crack, femslash, AU





	1. The First Part, Definitely

Warning: Crack, femslash, AU, OOC-ness

A/N: This started out as a crack idea and just grew from there. Republic City was my favorite part of Legend of Korra, and it seemed like such a perfect setting for a detective story. The Republic City in this fic is slightly grittier than the one in the show. Also, bending does not exist and several characters have been played around with.

Chapter One: The First Part, Definitely

I was nursing a bottle in the office when she came in. The lid had just been closed on the Cabbage Corp. case – hell, the newspapers had been running nothing else for a week straight – and I was drinking some celebratory shots of sake for a job well done. Not that you'd have heard about my involvement, of course. Wasn't my style. Some cash, maybe a few favors. The simple life, as that Arctic adage used to go. Besides, fame for a private eye got you nothing but a first-class ticket to the Spirit World.

So there I was, about to down another shot, when there came three knocks upon my door. I almost dropped the bottle in surprise (which definitely would've made a bad first impression). I hadn't been expecting any appointments for the day. Then again, the most interesting clients never made any. I didn't even have time to say "Come in!" before the brunette crept in like a turtle dove in a den of komodo rhinos.

"Hello, there," I said suavely, stashing the bottle under the desk. "What can I do for you?"

She was a young lady, early twenties at the most, with an air of refinery sticking to her like green on a hundred-yuan bill. Her eyes were almond-shaped emeralds set deep in her face, the sort of eyes those sappy buddies of mine were always mooning over. Long black hair spilled down to her bare back revealed by the low-cut dress she wore. Not even her poise could disguise her nervousness, however. Wringing her hands, she looked around the room like a fire ferret in a cage, eyes flitting from object to object, never settling on anything. When she came closer I smelled the scent of perfume and oil and money.

Did I mention she was hotter than the sun over the Si Wong Desert?

"Are you the one they call the Avatar?" she asked.

"And if I am?" I tried not to sound too pleased. I was the one who started that. Chicks dig pseudonyms.

She bit her full-blooded lips, the pearly white teeth making slight marks on the lipstick. "I have need of your…services."

"Anything for you, babe."

"I need you to find out something for me."

"You're going to need to be a little more specific than that," I said. It was probably the usual fare – a forgotten friend, an unfaithful husband, an over-zealous suitor, etc. Rich girls like her never had legit worries, though they often fooled themselves into thinking so. Casually, I eyed her left hand. No ring – a good sign. "But if it's a lover or husband of any of that messy business, you can forget it. I don't do spousal affairs. Personal policy."

Her green eyes batted like a hummingbird's wings. "I don't have a lover."

"Oh, really?" Immediately, I perked upright in my chair and smoothed over my hair. "Perhaps it's time you looked into one."

"I need you to find out the truth about my father."

So that was it – perhaps her rich dad was loose with women, perhaps he had some violent drinking habits, perhaps he got caught sniffing leechi leaves. It was standard fare. I've had half a million similar meetings in the dim, unlighted confines of my office (I purposely left the curtains down so the place looked more mysterious). Trivial cases like these were the bread-and-butter of any private eye. I hadn't known this when I first started, of course – back then, I had expected to save the world on a regular basis. Hell, I still did, and occasionally did just that – but these cases paid the bills, so I'm not complaining. What surprised me, however, was the gravity of her tone. I had learned long ago not to judge a catgator by the color of its stripes. Hidden beneath those doe eyes and porcelain skin was a woman who knew exactly why she came here.

Relaxing against my chair, I tried to appear nonchalant, as if pitching woo was how I greeted all my clients. Just because she didn't come _looking_ for love didn't mean she wasn't going to find it. Taking a cigarette from my pocket, I lit up, letting the tip illuminate my face.

"Spill it," I said, trying not to cough. These cigars were a nasty business. Probably gave you all sorts of diseases, if the doctors were right. But it just made you look so damn cool. "I got an appointment with the Chief of Police in an hour. I don't have all day."

"I think my father's an Equalist."

The cigarette hung lopsided in my gaping mouth. I stared at her like she had just said she was a badgermole. "An _Equalist_? Darling, do you even know what you're saying?"

The Equalists were a new underground movement that started in Republic City less than a year ago. It was young, but had gained traction faster than a metalshirt sank in water. Their platform, as much as a nebulous pseudo-gang could have one, was for equality of all citizens before the law. In short, they wanted an end to Republic City's rampant corruption and political abuse. An end to bribery, kickbacks, embezzlement, blackmail, graft…the list could drag on from here to Ba Sing Se. But the Equalists weren't one of those peaceful cactus-drinking hippies. They fought violence with more violence, dished out as hard as they received. They kidnapped Council members, extorted public officials, played the Triads off one another. Messy stuff. Dangerous stuff. Stuff I had never wanted to get entangled in again after Cabbage Corp.

"I'm Asami Sato. My father is Hiroshi – "

At this point the cigar dropped out of my mouth and I stared at her like she just said she could bend fire.

" – Sato. You've probably heard about my father. He's the inventor of the Satomobile and the CEO of Future Industries. He's never mistreated anyone in his life, and I'd never imagine him having anything to do with a criminal group, but…over the past few months he's been acting strange. At first I thought I was just being crazy, but then it got more and more obvious that something had happened to him. Something had changed him. Before, he had always been very open with me about his business plans and new inventions. Now, he almost never talks to me anymore, and I never see him anywhere outside his office or lab. It's like he's a completely different person! I – I don't know what I should do!"

Swallowing audibly, I fished out another cigar and lit up, not even noticing the previous one burning a hole in my lap. If any other girl had just told me what she did, I'd send her packing to the loony bin. But one look at Asami Sato told me all I needed to know – she was too cultured to be anyone else, too desperate to be lying. Asami Sato. _Hiroshi Sato._ This was Big. Republic City Big. United Nations Big. Big with a capital B.

"Start over from the beginning," I said. "Tell me everything you know."

"My father and I are very close. My mother was killed in a robbery ten years ago, so we're the only family we have left. I can tell you for a fact that my father's not the violent type – he wouldn't hurt a hair on a glowfly! – but that all started to change two months ago. Small things, at first, but it quickly escalated. He's been coming home late every evening and won't tell me where he's been. He has his bodyguards with him everywhere he goes, even within our own house. I see blueprints on his desk for inventions he never told anyone about. People drop by at our house during odd hours – disreputable people, the type my father would never associate himself with, but he greets them like he's known them his entire life. Sometimes I overhear him on the phone talking about smuggling some sort of metal – are you alright?"

I ground the cigar against the table. In my shock, I had actually inhaled some of the stuff; the smoke rose up my throat, making my eyes water. "Don't worry about me, darling. You story was just so heartbreaking I couldn't help but shed a few tears. Please, continue."

"It was like I was living with a different person. My father kept to himself all the time, acted like something was hunting him. Like _I_ was hunting him. He was a stranger to me. However, even with all his suspicious behavior, I would've still trusted him, if not for..." Nervously, she caught my eyes; I gave her a reassuring smile…"if not for what happened four days ago. I was driving through the industrial district when I saw them. They were talking in front of a factory while some hired hands loaded heavy boxes onto a truck. I recognized my father instantly. I also recognized the man he was talking to. It was Lightning Bolt Zolt."

First, the Equalists. Now, the Triple Threat Triad. Next thing she's going to tell me is that Yakone's back from the grave.

"After that, I knew I couldn't stay silent any longer. I needed to find out the truth, before my father got in too deep to pull back out. I heard about you from the Cabbage Corp. case. Lau Gan-Lan was a well-known associate of my father's and often met with him. I thought they were just business associates, but ever since Lau got arrested for being an Equalist sympathizer I've begun to have my doubts. If you could put someone as powerful as Lau behind bars, I know you'll be able to get to the bottom of this. Please, you must help my father!"

"Lau Gan-Lan was a piece of _cabbage_ ," I said automatically, then remembered that this was no time for clever wordplay. "These are serious accusations you're throwing around. The Equalists are crazy. Amon is crazy. Crazy enough to have a kill-on-sight order from the metalshirts. Are you sure you want to get into this?"

She nodded. No hesitation, no doubt. Her lips were pressed in a firm red line, her eyes as set as two chips of ice. Despite myself, I was impressed. This girl had guts.

"Alright, I'll take your offer," I said, ignoring my survival sense like the Wolfbats ignored rules. Leaning forward, I fixed her with a gaze that I hoped was aloof and penetrating. "Has your father ever harbored any Equalists tendencies? Attended any Equalist rallies? Accepted any Equalist fliers? Eaten any Equalist food? Breathed any Equalist air?"

"I…I don't know about the last few, but he's always blamed the government for my mother's death," she said glumly. "He said that they didn't do enough to prevent crime. He said that they were more worried about money than the people. He said that the gangs had the entire Council in their pocket. If the bureaucrats took their jobs seriously, my mother wouldn't have died. A lot of our friends felt the same way. I didn't – I didn't think he's actually go so far."

"Slow down, we haven't confirmed anything yet," I said, though admittedly the prospects weren't looking so bright. "Does he have any connections to the gangs besides Lightning Bolt Zolt?"

"Not that I know of. Seeing him talk with Zolt was already a huge shock."

"Does he have any previous criminal records?"

"No."

"Any suspicious friends?"

"No."

"Any unexplainable disappearance of funds?"

She opened her mouth, closed it, then bit her lip. "I'm not sure. The company's forced to publish its profit for each quarter, so he hasn't been embezzling any money if that's what you were after. As to his personal fortune, I can't attest to that. He could be spending it any way he pleases."

"Including funneling it to Equalists?"

"That's…possible."

I sat back in the chair. Hiroshi had the means and the motive. Things weren't looking good for the poor girl. "Thank you, Asami. You're a brave gal, coming to me like this. Few people would have the courage to do what you're doing."

"If – if he does turn out to be an…an Equalist, you won't tell the police, will you?" she asked imploringly. Placing one hand against desk, she leaned towards me, her emerald eyes glossy with unshed tears. I forced myself to tear my gaze away from her chest and focus on her face. "This is just between us, okay? Our little secret?"

"Of course," I assured her. "I'm a private eye. We work outside the law. Our only loyalty is to our clients, and in this case, darling, that'll be you. You can trust me on that."

She smiled in relief. My heart jumped like a Kuai ball.

"Thank you, detective."

I took a deep breath and gathered my bearings. Damn it, Korra. You're a professional, not a teenager during puberty (alright, so I was that, too). "That's all I need for now. I'll contact you if I find anything. The streets aren't safe after dark, so you should get going quickly."

"When can I see you again?"

"It'll be safer for me to contact you. You never know who might be watching. Just give me a phone number and I'll keep you up _dated_. It'll be a _date_."

Again, she didn't seem to notice my masterful control of words. Scribbling down a number, she bowed and turned to leave.

I cleared my throat. "One last thing before you go. The matter of my payment."

She nodded. "Of course. I'm afraid I'm not very experienced at this sort of thing. How much do you need?"

A beauty with an unlimited pocketbook – truly, she must be an angel. "Two thousand yuan up front, and two hundred per day afterwards. Two thousand more after the case is over."

Alright, so the price was a bit steeper than what I usually charged, but the case was also a bit steeper than what I usually took. Executives, Equalists, gangs – I'm risking my life over here. Surely that was worth at least a few extra yuan? Besides, this girl didn't look like she would miss a few yuan (or a few hundred). Lately – I'll be honest here – business hasn't been so good. The metalshirts had been on a crackdown, damn that Bei Fong. The Cabbage Corp. case had barely been enough to pay last month's rent. I wasn't about to let my conscience get in the way of some profitable usury.

Asami took out a leather wallet and set it down on my desk. The _thud_ it made told me it could only contain one thing.

"There's three thousand yuan in that bag, enough for the initial fee and five days of work," she said. "Just call me if you need any more. And if you do solve the case, you can expect more than a two thousand yuan bonus. _Much_ more."

"I'm in love," I murmured, then said in a louder voice, "Of course, Asami. You can count on me."

"I know I can, detective."

She walked out with a hypnotic sway in her hips and a little bit of drool in my mouth. The moment the door closed, I immediately split opened the purse and riffled through the bills. A hundred tsungi horns couldn't match the sound of greenbacks slapping against greenbacks. Three thousand yuan total, not a single fen short. I let out a loud whoop and thrust my fist in the air. I was set for the next six months. This called for a celebration. Maybe I'll put on my evening dress, go out for a classy evening at Kuang's –

No, Korra, you goddamn idiot. That little dove is counting on you, and here you are, already fooling around like you've solved the case. I slammed my face against the desk. And what the hell are you thinking, blowing fifty yuan on that pretentious grease-processing plant? Reluctantly, I stashed the money in the safe, leaving myself only three hundred yuan. It should be enough to tide me over for a week or two, if I was frugal. You never know when there's a dry spell and you suddenly find yourself eating nothing but sea prune stew for a week straight until just the sight of a sea prune made you want to vomit.

I looked at the clock on the wall. Eight o'clock. Perfect. I grabbed my coat and headed through the door. Those two would be just getting home from the factory, and they might just be the key to solving this case.

* * *

The industrial district was the fastest-growing district in Republic City, and also the most impoverished. I coughed, trying to breathe as little as possible – smog clogged the air thicker than Narook's seaweed soup. And it was only slightly less healthy for you. Factories lined every street, one right after another, belching out smoke until the sky was only a distant memory. Squalid men and women in tattered clothes squatted on the sidewalks. They were smoking, drinking, and gambling away what little money they earned from slaving in the factories. Looking at them almost put me in a charitable mood. Sometimes, I came here when I was feeling down in the dumps. As poorly as my detective agency was doing, I was better off than these guys.

Right now, however, I came for a different reason besides schadenfreude (I try to sneak that word in whenever possible). I stopped in front of one of the worker's housing tenants. It was a squat, lop-sided building with half the rooms caved in and a roof flimsier than a politician's excuse for a concubine. Also, it smelled worse than a buffalo yak. Standing in front of the door made me want to puke, but I steeled my stomach, driven by the image of a green-eyed, black-haired angel waiting anxiously.

I gave three knocks on the door. The orphan brothers lived here, though 'live' is a misleading word since they spend more time in the factories than in their house. They had helped me out in the past, providing brute muscle when I needed it. A pair of fighters with professional boxing experience, I found, was very useful when I got caught behind the eight-ball. Though dirty, poor, and not very bright, they were overall a pair of nice guys. Well, Bolin was, at any rate. Mako, not so much. Nonetheless, they had information I needed.

The door opened to an irate-looking Mako. His shirt was soaked with sweat and oil and his skin was the same color as his hair. He must have just gotten back home from work. When he saw me, his jaw clenched visibly beneath the sooty skin.

"Korra, what the hell are you doing here?"

Did I forget to mention they hated my guts?

"There's my favorite pair of brothers!" I said, which was not a lie. They were the _only_ pair of brothers I knew. "How's life been treating ya? Still working twelve hours a day at the factory?"

"Fourteen hours, actually," Bolin said, popping up beside Mako. "They raised it last week."

"Hey, it could always be worse, right? At least it's not _fifteen_ hours. Or sixteen, or seven – "

Mako held up a hand. "Enough of this, Korra. I thought I told you we never wanted to see your face again after you ditched us in the qualifiers. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh, right, I almost forgot about that," Bolin said, crossing his arms. "Not cool, Korra. The ref thought we fixed that match. You got us disqualified from the ring for a year!"

"That's exactly what I came here for!" Damn, so they still remembered that. I slipped into the room under Mako's arm. Their apartment was a single room with bunk beds in the corner and a stove near the side wall. It was almost completely bare, and that was saying something considering how small it was. The acolytes on Air Temple Island would be jealous of their asceticism. On a chair next to the door, Pabu was sleeping. He woke up and hissed the moment I stepped inside, his sharp little fangs gleaming under the light of the lamp. I hope the little bugger had his shots – oh hell, who am I kidding. Those two couldn't even afford shots for _themselves_ , let alone their pet. If that thing bit me, I was as good as dead.

"Let bygones be bygones, that's what the acolytes always say," I said, plopping down on a chair far away from the fire ferret. "Couldn't the world use a bit more love? Couldn't we all do our part in cleaning up Republic City by being _just_ a bit nicer to each other?"

"That's not how you acted when you left us to dry in the qualifiers."

"Mako, you're still bitter about that? I already said I was sorry. What else do you want?"

"You think an _apology_ is going to cut it? Do you know how much we lost because of you?"

"The most important things in life can't be bought with money," I said sagely, "friendship among them. We _are_ friends, right?"

"Not on your life."

"Come on, it was one little match. Can't you forget about it already?"

"It was one little match that got us banned for an entire year!"

"Like you would've even gotten that far in the tournament without me," I said dismissively. "I told you I would only be a temporary substitute, but you went ahead and took me on anyway. Besides, what the hell are you getting so worked up for? I thought that with all the money you get doing jobs for the Triple Threat Triad – "

"We split with them years ago!" Mako shouted, slamming a fist against the wall. "I don't know what kind of stunt you're trying to pull, but throwing around false accusations isn't going to help you!"

Bolin, meanwhile, had gone white as a sheet and stiff as a board. He had always been brutally honest, the poor kid. He couldn't lie his way out of a room of six-year olds.

"Your brother disagrees with you," I said casually.

Mako whirled on him. "She's lying! You tell her, Bo. We cut our ties with the Triad years ago. You haven't been dealing with them, right? You tell her!"

Bolin fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. His lower lip stuck out like a drawbridge, his wide green eyes staring resolutely at a patch of dirt on the ground. Mako's whole body was as taut as a metalshirt wire, then gradually, his heaving shoulders sagged and sagged until he had the stringency of a smoke sea slug. I wish I brought some popcorn along. The movers were nothing compared to this.

"Goddamn it, Bo."

"I couldn't help it! They gave me ten times our factory wage!"

"I told you not to mess with those guys! No matter how much money they're offering you, it's not worth it. What the hell were you thinking?"

"It was completely safe, they said, under the table – "

"How long has this been going on?"

"Not long, only a few weeks."

"A few weeks? Are you crazy? These are the _Triple Threat Triads_ , the most notorious gang in Republic City. And you _trusted_ them?"

I gave a loud cough. Bolin looked like he wanted to sink through the floor (given the quality of the building, it wasn't out of the question), and things were going nowhere at this rate. After all, I didn't come here to help these two make up. "If you're done being enlightened," I said, "perhaps we can discuss the reason for my coming here?"

"This is a matter between me and my brother," Mako snapped. "It's none of your business."

"I heard Bei Fong is handing out a premium for info on the Triads these days – "

"That's low, Korra, even for you."

I scowled. That hurt. Really, it did. Couldn't he see it had been an empty threat? If I walked into the police station, Bei Fong would clap me in handcuffs before I could utter a word. Besides, even if Bei Fong didn't hate me like a hog monkey hated a bath, I would never sell out my favorite pair of brothers. Well, except that last time in the arena, and that one other time at the docks a few months ago. But bygones were bygones now, right?

"So _that's_ how you got the money to buy our new stove," Mako said. "Pabu's circus tricks didn't earn a cent of it!"

"How do _you_ know? Don't listen to him, Pabu, Iknow how much potential you have."

"You need to cut ties with them right now."

"Right now? But they already paid me in advance for next week's job!"

"Don't forget about me over here," I added helpfully. "You know, your guest who came all the way here to speak – "

"You give them back the money and tell them you won't have anything to do with them anymore. How much did they give you?"

"Not much, I swear!"

"That's even worse!"

"Forty yuan. And they promised another forty after the job is done."

"What kind of job was it?"

"Just some…some bodyguard work," Bolin mumbled.

Bodyguard work. That was slang for turf war.

For a moment Mako looked like he was about to hit him, his fists clenched so tightly they were shaking. Then, with a sigh, he closed his eyes and leaned against the wall with a _thud_ shook the rafters. "Promise me one thing, Bo," he said in a tired voice. "Promise me you'll never have anything to do with the Triple Threat Triads ever again."

"I promise…and I'm sorry, bro. I know I shouldn't have done it."

He meant it, too, the poor guy. Bolin was earnest, you had to credit him for that. But in another month he'll be suckered again, if the past two times were indicative of anything. It was like that verse from the scriptures about the polar bear dog returning to his vomit. Except I can't remember Naga vomiting a single time in my life.

"You two should just kiss already," I said. "Save us some time."

"Korra! I've already said this is none of your business."

"I'm not leaving until I get what I came for."

"If you don't get out in five seconds," Mako growled, "I swear I'll throw you out myself."

"You think you can fight me? I may have taught you everything you know, but I haven't taught you everything _I_ know."

"You didn't teach me anything! You were with us for two weeks!"

"This is no time for schadenfreude – "

"What the hell does that even mean?"

"Are you going to give me the information I want, or not?" I crossed my arms and put on my I-can-do-this-all-night face. "You don't seem to realize I just did you a favor. Better you find out from me than from a metalshirt knocking on your door."  
"Do you promise to leave and never show your face here again?"

"The first part, definitely. Second part, not a chance."

Mako threw his hands up in the air. "Do what you want. I'm sick of arguing with you. It's like arguing with a boarcupine." He frowned. "Actually, what _are_ you here for?"

"I need info on the Triple Threat Triad," I said, shooting a glance at Bolin. "Specifically, on Hiroshi Sato."

"Hiroshi Sato?" Bolin said. " _The_ Hiroshi Sato? CEO of Future Industries? Richest man in the world?"

"None other," I said, pleased with his reaction. "I have a pretty big case on my hands at the moment. You wouldn't believe this, but _Asami Sato_ – " Mentally, I slapped myself. Get it together, Korra. It's been less than a day and already you're blowing it. " – I mean, my vast underground network of spies informed me that Hiroshi Sato might have some less-than-stellar tendencies, if you catch my drift."

"You think Hiroshi Sato has ties with the Triple Threat Triad," Mako said in disbelief.

"That's…not as impossible as it sounds." Bolin scrunched his eyebrows together in that way he always did when he was trying very hard to remember something. "I overheard a couple of guys talking about Hiroshi last week. Some kind of deal with Zolt, I think. A huge amount of money was supposed to be coming our way."

Bingo. So Hiroshi and Zolt were working together after all. It might even have something to do with what Asami saw two days ago. Since the gangs and the Equalists weren't on friendly terms, the Equalists were probably using Hiroshi as a middleman to deal with them. Maybe the Equalists wanted some hush-hush services only possible below law. Or maybe Hiroshi intended on dismantling the organization from within. Or maybe they were going to set up the Triple Threat Triad to go to war with another gang. There were countless ways this whole thing could play out.

"Can you be more specific?" I said excitedly. "What kind of deal? For what? At what time?"

"It was something about a shipment of…platters? Platypus? Platimoney? It's been a while, my memory's kind of hazy."

"Have you heard about any attacks on a rival gang?" I pressed. "Or kidnappings? Or extortion? Or any new weapons?"

Bolin shook his head. "Sorry, Korra, that's all I remember. I'm not very high up in the Triad – "

"He's not going to _be_ in the Triad for much longer," Mako added.

" – so they don't tell me anything important. If you want more info, you should talk to Tahno. Anything that goes on in the Triads, he'll know about."

"Tahno, that slimeball," I muttered. I should've figured Republic City's most notorious match fixer would be related to this somehow. "He has a finger in half the shady deals in this city."

"I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for," Bolin said. In a conspiratory whisper, he continued, "Let's keep my involvement with the Triad just between the three of us, alright? There's no need for Bei Fong to get all tangled up in this mess."

"If you don't, I'll rip you apart and leave you for the buzzard wasps," Mako growled.

"No problem," I assured them. "I'll never sell you guys out. Again, I mean."

Mako held the door open like a porter. "Is that all you needed? You got what you came for, so get out. Or do you plan on staying for dinner?"

"No thanks. I don't even want to look at the slop you guys call food." The rations given to factory workers made Narook's seaweed soup look like the finest snow crabs from the Arctic. I wouldn't be surprised if there were bits of Pabu in there. The fire ferret did seem a little skinnier lately.

At the doorway, I reached into my coat and pulled out a wad of cash. Asami's perfume still lingered on the bills.

"Here," I said, tossing it to Mako.

He stared at it like it was a barrel of blasting jelly. "What's this?"

"Money, or have you forgotten what yuan looked like? It's a tip for the info."

"There's at least a hundred yuan in here! What's the catch?"

"There is no catch," I said, stepping out into the hallway. Alright, so maybe I _was_ feeling a little bit guilty about what I did to them back at the arena. "And when I get to the bottom of this case, I'll treat you guys to dinner. Not Narook's either. It'll be Kuang's as much as you can eat."

Hell, I'd even treat Bei Fong to dinner if Asami delivered the money she promised me. Closing the door on their half-hearted protests, I started the trek back to my office (it doubled as my house in times of financial trouble, which was always). In my mind, I was already setting up a plan to get some one-on-one time with everyone's favorite boxing champion. I cracked my knuckles. It was time to give Tahno the fight he should've gotten years ago.


	2. If I Told You, I'd Have to Kill You

Chapter Two: If I Told You, I'd Have to Kill You

"So there was I, bleeding on the floor while all three of the Tigerdillos advanced. Each of them must have had twenty pounds on me, with muscles as big as cannonballs. I look to my right. Ming was out cold. I look to my left. Shaozu couldn't even stand up. I look straight ahead. Just me versus three of the biggest brutes boxing has ever seen. I grit my teeth. Blood pounded in my ears. The crowd was crazy that night, screaming so loudly that the entire Arena shook. _Tahno. Tahno._ There was no way I was going to let these posers walk away with my title and twenty-five thousand yuan. Wiping the blood from my mouth, I picked myself up from the floor. It was go time."

"You're _so_ brave," I said in a sing-song voice. "What _ever_ happened next?"

"The first one lunged towards me. He was massive, as big as a…well, a Tigerdillo. I dodged to the left and sank my fist into his gut as he went by. It was like punching a brick wall. I almost broke my hand, but his momentum did most of the work. He dropped like a stone and didn't get up again. The second one snarled, spit flying from his mouth like a fire lily during monsoon season. The look in his eyes told me he wanted my head. His fist came at me like a speeding Satomobile, and it would've been the end of me, too, if I hadn't barely managed to duck out of the way in time. His other fist came at me from below. I saw it coming a mile away and blocked it with my arms. Now he was wide open. I got him once, twice, three times in the face before he managed to recover. He didn't even look phased. That bugger knew how to take a beating, I'll credit him that much. He lunged at me again, but this time I was ready. As his arms reached out to grab me, I rushed forward. A right hook, then a left hook, then a right hook again. _Bam bam bam._ He went down cold. For a full ten seconds there was silence as the ref gave the count, then the entire Arena erupted. _Tahno. Tahno._ And that, ladies, is how I retained my Championship title for the fifth year running."

"What about the third one?"

"What third one?"

"The third Tigerdillo," I said. "There were three, remember? You took down the first two, what happened to the third?"

"Huh? Oh – right, err…I got him with the patented Tahno One-Two Punch. It was textbook. Boring, really. I didn't think it was worth mentioning."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. For the past thirty minutes I had sat at a table in Narook's listening to Tahno recount every championship match he's ever had and, of course, won handily. His stories straddled the cusp between outright lie and ridiculous fantasy. Only the presence of four of his fangirls prevented me from strangling his throat, and even then, I was tempted to strangle them along with him.

The stink of week-old fish soup wafted from our bowls. I had no clue why someone as rich as Tahno would even eat at Narook's when he could afford to have Kuang personally cook every one of his meals. Greaseballs naturally liked other greasy things, I suppose. Tahno drank his soup so quickly it looked like he was manipulating the water.

"The key to boxing," he said, wiping his mouth, "is the left hook. Any idiot can do a right hook, but it takes real skill to do a left hook like I can. You gotta snap your arm just right, maximize the power, and let me tell you, ladies, it's not as easy as it sounds to do with your off-hand. I could write a textbook on it alone."

I batted my eyelashes, trying to look worshipful. It came out like I was squinting really hard, I think. "You're _so_ strong, Tahno. How can _anyone_ in Republic City _ever_ compare to you?"

Damn, that came out way too sarcastic.

"Of course, babe," he drawled. "I'm the best there is. I've never lost a match. Talent, I suppose you could call it. Of course, I'm talented in other things besides boxing, if you catch my drift."

The other girls sitting around the table giggled, covering their crooked yellow teeth behind their sleeves. The most amazing thing I learned in the last half hour was that Tahno actually had fans. Not people who liked him only because they bet on him, but actual _fans._ These girls seemed to believe he was a big shot boxing star who could wipe the floor with anyone in Republic City. They also seemed to believe he won all his matches three-vs.-one. Have they even watched any of his matches? Tahno's cheating was so blatant it made season two's romantic subplot look subtle and well-constructed.

"I would _love_ to get to know you better," I said, sidling up to him. "Can we perhaps go somewhere more…private?"

"Aw, no fair!" one of the girls whined. "You can't keep him to yourself!"

"That's right! What about us?"

"Tahno belongs to everyone!"

"Stay with us!"

Tahno was deaf to their cries. Sliding an arm around my shoulder, he said, "Of course, babe. How about we head back to my mansion? I can drive you there in my 168 Mercedes Satomobile."

"I can't wait that long," I whined. "Let's step into the back alley for…a more private conversation. Just the two of us."

He nodded ferociously. The degenerate dirtbag was practically panting with lust at this point, his tongue lolling out of his mouth like a kangadog in summer. I didn't blame him. Considering the company he usually kept, just the sight of an attractive girl (me) was like Aang's second coming. He'd probably faint on the spot if he ever saw Asami.

Narook's had a back alley that was deserted this time of night, which both Tahno and I were very glad of, though for different reasons. Outside, smog covered the city like a film of paint over water, blocking the moon and stars and leaving only the flickering electric street lamps for light. Garbage bags covered the ground like spots on a polar leopard. The air was heavy with the stench of rotten fish. Narook, that upstanding chef, must be saving money by dumping his trash outside instead of disposing it properly. Either that, or he got his ingredients from here.

The moment we stepped into the alley, Tahno smirked, arched my chin with a finger, and bent down for a kiss.

I slammed my fist into his gut. He doubled over, wheezing like a broken engine.

"What the hell was that for – "

" _I'll_ ask the questions tonight," I snarled, pushing him against the wall. That punch was the second-most satisfying punch I've thrown in my entire life, right after the time I clocked Bei Fong in the face. "Better start talking unless you want some broken ribs. Or broken fingers, whichever I'm in the mood for at the moment."

"So you're into that sort of thing? I'm cool with that – "

I punched him in the gut again, a bit harder this time. "I'm not joking, Tahno."

"Who…who are you?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you." I flexed my fingers. "That was a joke, by the way, don't look so faint. All you need to know about me is that I can hurt you. Badly."

"A-Alright…What…What do you want?"

"I need info on Hiroshi Sato. How's he connected with the Equalists? What does he want with the Triple Threat Triad? What's he smuggling?"

His eyes flickered back and forth. "Hiroshi Sato? Who's Hiroshi Sato? What makes you think I know anything about Hiroshi Sato?"

I punched him in the gut a third time. "Don't lie to me. I know there's a deal between Hiroshi and Zolt. I know you know what it was. Give me the answers. _Now._ Or I won't pull my punches any longer."

He moaned in pain. "Hiroshi contacted Zolt two months ago," he said, clutching his stomach. "I don't know the details, but Hiroshi wanted some platinum. A massive amount of platinum – "

At least Bolin had gotten half the word right.

" – that exceeded what Omashu could supply. Omashu has other clients in Republic City, and they didn't want to favor Hiroshi over anyone else. That's where the Triple Threats came in. We were supposed to get the platinum by seizing every ship carrying it into the city, and then secretly turning it over to him. Four times the market price for each ton, he promised. We delivered him twelve shipments in total. Last one came three days ago. Earned us a hefty sum, too." He looked at me suspiciously. "When I say 'we,' I mean the Triple Threats, of course. I didn't take part in any of this personally, you understand. Someone as prestigious as me needs to keep a clean record for the metalshirts."

"That makes two of us. What does Hiroshi want with so much platinum?"

"No clue. You'd need to ask him yourself."

Platinum was a rare metal, extremely durable, extremely strong. Also extremely expensive. None of Hiroshi's current inventions used it. It had to be for something else, something so important he would risk consorting with the Triads to get.

I scrutinized Tahno with a critical eye. "That was too easy. Aren't you even going to _try_ and fight back?"

"Why should I?" he asked, alarmed. "Don't you want me to cooperate?"

"Yeah, but I figured that since you're boxing champion and all, you'd at least put up somesort of fight. I've had more difficulty wriggling info out of street urchins. I know you're a cheat and a dirty coward, but you have to have at least _some_ fighting skill, right?"

"Do I look like an idiot to you?" he snorted. "I've never gotten into a serious fight in my life and I don't plan on ever doing so. Boxing is for idiots. Let them break their fists or noses or whatever else they want to break. The smart guys sit back, bribe the opponents, bribe the refs, bribe the announcer, bribe the bookies, the whole shebang, and win without ever needing to sprain a finger. Afterwards, the Triad gives you a cut of the earnings made from betting. _That's_ how you make money. What kind of idiot actually boxes for real?"

I'll admit it: I was impressed. You had your typical villains, the gang members and moneylenders and politicians, and then you had the villains one step above them. These were the villains who were villains for villains' sake. These were the villains who made orphans cry just to drink their tears. These were the villains who wouldn't put five yuan in the collection box without taking ten yuan out. They wore their villainy like a badge of pride. They had villainy down to an art form, and I was talking to the greatest artist of them all. To show him just how impressed I was, I punched him in the gut again.

"What the hell was that for!?"

"For being a scumbag. One last thing. Where can I find Zolt?"

"I don't know –"

I drew back my fist. "You better start knowing real fast, or – "

"I swear I don't know!" he said frantically. "Zolt disappeared three days ago. No traces, no clues, nothing. It was like he just vanished from the face of the planet. We've combed the entire city searching for him, but no success. Some say he's dead. Others say Bei Fong finally got to him. The only fact is that nobody knows where he's gone. You have to believe me!"

"I think you're lying. I think you're just covering up for your boss. If he's missing, how come I haven't heard about it yet?"

"I swear I'm telling the truth! Zolt is the lynchpin of the organization, alright? For him to suddenly disappear like this, there'll be a huge stir. We've been trying to keep it a secret. If one of the other gangs found out, that'll be the end of the Triple Threat Triad. Believe me, I want to know where Zolt is as much as you do. If I ever find out, I swear you'll be the first person I tell it to!"

Zolt, missing? Looking at Tahno's quivering figure, I decided he was telling the truth. He was too cowardly to lie directly to my face and too stupid to make up such an elaborate lie on the spot. Zolt had been the leader of the Triple Threats for over a decade, and now he goes missing two months after Hiroshi contacts him. I furrowed my eyebrows. This was too much of a coincidence. The Equalists were moving faster than I anticipated. Zolt had been disposed of the minute he outlived his usefulness.

Nervously, Tahno licked his lips. "The last place we heard from Zolt was the docks. Depot 37. We've had a base there for a while. Easy place to lay low, easy access to the ships. Maybe you'll find something there."

"You've been quite helpful, Tahno."

"You'll let me go now, right? No more punches?"

"You can rest assured," I said, then slammed his head against the brickwork. He went down like a puppet with its strings cut. "And I do mean _rest._ "

I turned away, heading towards the docks. Honestly, I was disappointed. I had been hoping Tahno would resist a more so I could punch him a few more times, but he's been so well-behaved that _I_ would seem like the villain if I hurt him anymore. I hadn't even broken anything. In the morning he'd be as healthy as ever save for a few bruises, and, if I slammed his head justright, almost no recollection of tonight's events. I didn't need any more enemies remembering my face.

Maybe a few street urchins would rob him before he woke up, I thought with a grin. He sure as hell didn't deserve a single fen of his money.

* * *

Republic City had the largest seaport in the world, twelve miles of docks, jetties, wharfs, piers, canals, and warehouses situated along the Mo Ce sealine. On one side of the sea was the Earth Kingdom, on the other side the Fire Nation, and the port itself was located in Republic City, capital of the United Nations, so it naturally became a hotspot for commerce. Hundreds of ships carrying goods from as far away as the Water Tribes – both poles – docked here every day. Their masts jutted out from the surrounding waters as numerous as trees in a forest. You can find _anything_ in the port, and I do mean anything. Sailors unloaded gold, ivory, sandalwood, leechi nuts, banyan leaves, lapis stones, mangos, jennamite, crushed chili peppers, dragonscales…hell, I've even seen a traveling circus load a supposedly-extinct shirshu into their ship. During the day, standing at the docks was like standing at the center of the world.

Depot 37 was located in one of the warehouse districts. It was an old district, rows of identical buildings stacked against each other, their loading doors looming in the darkness like gaping maws. At night, the port was almost deserted; few ships took the risk of docking at night, and fewer still took the trouble of unloading their goods in darkness. I can see why the Triad would decide to use this place as a base – it would be easy to get lost here, easy for any meddling detectives to disappear and never be heard from again. The sulfurous sickled moon was my only companion as I trekked past warehouse after warehouse, scanning the brine-soaked metal plates for 34…35…36…

37\. I stopped in front of a large wooden building, about twenty meters wide and thrice as long, its timbers rotted by seawater. It was an inconspicuous building, identical to the 36 warehouses preceding it save a few stains on the door that looked suspiciously like blood. I put my fist to the door and knocked – if the place was crawling with Triad members, I could just pretend to ask for directions (Triad members were pretty gullible, I've learned, all muscle and no brain. Just like Bolin). Nobody opened the door. I turned the handle. It was locked. Time for the old-fashioned way, then. Bracing my foot against the door, I gave it a kick that splintered the wood completely, tearing the whole door off its hinge. In the silent darkness, the crash it made was louder than a naval mine going off in a pond.

With the needling suspicion that Tahno had lied to me, I crept into warehouse, wary of an ambush that might be sprung at any moment. Inside was pitch black. I hesitated with the decision to use a flashlight – it would give away my position immediately, but then again, me kicking down the door probably did that already. I flicked it on. Swinging back and forth like a hanged man, the flashlight's beam cut a wide swathe of light through the interior.

I needn't have bothered with the precautions. The place was about half the size of the Arena and completely deserted, that much I saw at first glance. Dust choked the air tighter than a politician's purse strings, covering the floor and walls several centimeters thick. The air was muggy and stale, as if the place had not been opened for a long time. Small green weeds sprouted from between whatever was left of the floorboards. I walked deeper into the darkness, shining my flashlight on anything it could reach. Along the right wall was painted the crimson symbol of the Triple Threat Triad, three spirals merged at the center. So Tahno had not been completely lying – the Triple Threats had been here, but the question was: how long ago? I used my fingernail to chip away at the red paint. It flaked away easily.

Walking along the perimeter of the room, I scanned every corner and floorboard for any traces of Triad activity. The only thing I got for my troubles were frayed nerves. Occasionally, a chittering mole rat made me jump, or the darkness seemed to solidify into half a dozen gangsters, or the hiss of wind through the timbers had me convinced that someone was coming, but after six false starts I decided I was alone. After twenty minutes, I was certain of it. My only companions in the warehouse were the mole rats and mosquito flies – the place was as empty as Aang's tomb and nowhere near as clean. A frayed red scarf, the shattered glass of sake bottles, and a pile of burnt cigarettes were all I found. Nobody had been using this place for at least six months, least of all Zolt.

Tahno had lied to me.

I cracked my knuckles. I'd need to pay him another visit later, and this time I had an excuse to break a few ribs. He would pay for leading me on this wild pentapus chase.

And yet…I flicked my flashlight back and forth, watching the beam light up nothing but the dust motes. In the stillness, the three crimsons spirals seem to spin like a hypnosis swirl. I couldn't quite shake the feeling that this place wasn't as empty as it seemed. When you've been in the business for as long as I have, you develop a heightened sense of paranoia, and right now my paranoia was buzzing like a nest of buzzard wasps. Haven't I see some horror movers that started this exact same way?

I was just being jumpy, I told myself. Alone, at the docks, during nighttime – it was enough to send anyone's nerves on edge. I was no more superstitious than any other person, but now, unbidden, surfaced stories of the Spirit World my mother used to tell me. Stories of Ko, the Face Stealer who tore the skin from your face and wore it as a mask; of Kyoshi, the judge who once massacred an entire village to catch a single criminal; of Hei Bai, the Forest Spirit, the six-limbed monster who resided inside a massive oak tree; of Wan Shi Tong, the Knowledge Spirit, who feasted on the brains of children; of the Painted Lady who cried tears of blood, of Tui and La, of Princess Yue, of Roku the Fire Bender and Kuruk the Water Bender, of the Eyeless Moths and the Fleasheaters and a hundred others that molded the stuff of nightmares.

I raked a hand through my hair. Taking a long, shuddering breath, I forced my heart to slow down. Get it together, Korra. You're not six years old anymore. How the hell can you expect to solve a case if you're scared of a little darkness? There's nothing here. The Spirit World doesn't exist. Do you really think Ko's just going to show up and start talking to you?

"Good evening, Avatar."

I screamed – I'll admit it, I screamed like a little girl. My flashlight clattered against the floor, its beam swinging wildly back and forth across the ceiling. I flailed my arms like a headless koala chicken and had already ran ten steps into the wall before I realized the voice had been a human voice. Then I realized who the voice belonged to and I screamed again.

Bei Fong stood in front of the doorway, her smirking face framed by the light of the moon.

"I came here to catch a tiger, but it seems I caught a rat instead."

"C-Chief Bei Fong, what a p-pleasant surprise," I finally managed after my vocal cords began working again. I wished it had been Ko instead. "What are you doing here?"

"That's what I was about to ask _you_ , Avatar." She stepped through the splintered door, a line of metalshirts filing in behind her. "My boys and I have been staking this place out for days. We heard that Zolt had set up base in one of these warehouses. Truthfully, we were just about to give up and dismiss it as a false lead, but then _you_ show up out of nowhere. Care to tell me what you're doing in Triad territory, Avatar? Those screams you made couldn't have been the screams of an honest citizen."

Then it hit me like a shot to the kidneys – Tahno, that lying bastard. He had lead me straight into a trap. In the past, this warehouse might've been an actual base for the Triple Threats, but now it was simply a dud, a red herring to throw the metalshirts off their tracks. Tahno knew it was being watched and had purposely told me to come here hoping I'd be caught. I had followed like a koi on a hook.

"There's a good reason for this," I said, holding up my hands. "You wouldn't believe it, but I came here for the same reason you did. Small world, eh? I got a tip-off that Zolt had been seen here – "

"And I can move rocks with my mind. Save your excuses for the court, Avatar."

"I'm telling the truth!"

"Cuff her, boys."

"You can't do this!" I protested as the metalshirts surrounded me. Six of them in all, too many for me to take, even if Bei Fong was out of the picture. "You can't arrest me just for being in the docks at night! What's Republic City come to, when an innocent girl can't even take a stroll at night without getting arrested?"

"Oh, suspicious activity in known Triad territory is plenty ground for an arrest," Bei Fong chuckled. "Besides, you've interfered with our investigations too many times to count. Remember Cabbage Corp.? I still remember. We have enough records on you to keep you locked up until Sozin's Comet comes again. Last time I checked Boiling Rock has a few vacancies left, aren't you a lucky girl? I heard the temperaturethere is lovely there this time of year."

That did it. Once in Boiling Rock, _always_ in Boiling Rock. No way was I spending the rest of my life in the middle of a volcano. One of the metalshirts reached for me. I grabbed his hand and wrenched it backwards, feeling the satisfying _snap_ that told me his wrist was broken. He staggered backwards, howling in pain. For half a second the rest of the metalshirts looked on in stunned silence, perhaps wondering who was stupid enough to take on six of them bare-handed, then they leapt into action. But that half-second had been enough.

"Get her!" Bei Fong shouted.

I darted between them, taking advantage of the darkness and confusion to insure I never stayed in sight of their flashlight beams for long. I was suddenly very grateful for the oppressive darkness. In daytime, I wouldn't even think of doing something this stupid. The problem with fighting metalshirts was…well, their metal shirts. It formed a protective body armor around them, impervious to bare fists. The only weak points were the joints where the metal tapered off into leather, but if you accidentally hit the metal part instead, you'd be liable to break a finger. Fighting metalshirts _with_ a weapon was already plenty difficult, and fighting them without one was suicide.

I've always thought living was overrated anyway.

Ducking down to avoid a wild haymaker, I kicked out at my attacker's knee, feeling his entire body buckle like a paper fan. He collapsed down onto one leg. I followed up with a vicious jab to his face, knuckles meeting flesh in a shower of blood. Something crunched underneath my fist. He sprawled against the floor, both hands clutching at the remnants of his broken nose. Bending over his body, I pounded his face again just for good measure – it probably wasn't necessary, but you could never be too sure, right? Blinding pain, I found, was almost as effective in taking someone out of a fight as straight-up icing them. I wiped the back of my hand against my shirt. It left a long crimson trail. Before the rest of the metalshirts could group up on me, I darted away again, tracking their movements by the light of their flashlights.

"You're going to regret this, Avatar," Bei Fong growled. "I'm not letting you get away again."

Contrary to her words, the remaining metalshirts were in disarray, their heavy armor merely a nuisance in the darkness against a foe they couldn't catch. They were split up, stumbling in every direction in order to find me. I let a flashlight beam linger on my body for a few seconds; one of the metalshirts gave a roar of triumph. He charged towards me, the plates of his armor clanking heavily with every accelerating steps. _Ole,_ I thought, then spun around like a matador, sweeping my feet out low as he passed. The heel of my foot struck his shin. He crashed against the floor in a cloud of dust, the plates of his armor jangling like wind chimes. I stomped down hard across the back of his helmet. His head sank several inches into the ground. With a moan, he braced both hands against the floorboard, trying to push himself back up. I stomped down hard again. His body shuddered once and was still.

Three down, four more to go.

Maybe I'll actually get out of this with all my limbs intact, I thought, then I almost slapped myself for thinking that. First rule of the movers was that you _never_ hoped things would get better, because the moment you did, things always got worse. Right on cue, something slammed into my shoulder with enough force to send me careening. Instinctively, I whirled around, lashing out at my attacker. Bad idea. My fist hit solid plate mail with a _thud_ that told me I broke a few knuckles, the skin peeling away as it skid harmlessly along the metal. I tried to pull back as quickly as I could, but it was too late – the metalshirt had my wrist gripped in a massive gloved hand, holding it as easily as a twig. He was a giant, close to seven feet, the metal plates on his chest forming a solid wall. Curling his other hand into a fist, he drew it back and slammed it into my gut.

I doubled over, hacking for breath. Now I know how Tahno felt. Pungent and metallic, the taste of blood welled up in my mouth. I spat it out. At least two ribs had been cracked, probably more. The metalshirt, however, didn't let go of me. His face as stony as a tombstone, he drew his fist back once again.

Like hell I was going to let him hit me a second time. I jerked backwards with my caught hand, pulling him towards me as hard as I could. My wrist dislocated with a _snap_. I ignored the pain. It was like trying to pull an airship along the ground, but he was obviously unprepared for such strength coming from a girl half his size. He stumbled forward, pinwheeling to maintain his balance. If he recovered, I was done for. Just as he was about to crash into me, I aimed a knifehand strike to his throat, my arm whipping so fast I was afraid I pulled a tendon. Fingers met leather with enough force to crush the windpipe. He crumpled instantly. He let go of my hand, fingers scrabbling at his throat like a fish out of water.

He lay twitching on the floor. Panting, sweat pouring down my face, I staggered away. Served him right for hitting a lady. Oh well, he was a big guy, I'm sure it wouldn't kill him. He might even be able to speak again. Three months in the hospital at most, two if he got quick medical attention. But things weren't looking to end quickly any time soon.

"Impressive, Avatar," Bei Fong said. Next to her, the two remaining metalshirts had their flashlights trained on me, their hands shaking.

"She took down four…

"…even Big Bing…"

"Had enough?" I said, feeling none of the courage I was trying to effect. My breaths came out in sharp, quick gasps. A bead of pain coalesced in my broken wrist and lanced through my entire arm like a needle.

"Stay back, you two. There's no need for any more senseless violence," Bei Fong ordered them. She cinched brass knuckles around her hands, pounding them against each other. Their _clink_ made me flinch. "Shut off your flashlights. I'll finish her off myself."

The room plunged into complete darkness. The only thing visible was the doorway, a rectangle of light illuminated by the moon. I resisted the urge to rush towards the tranquil harbor beyond. That was the most obvious plan, which against Bei Fong spelled suicide as surely as jumping in front of a cannon. She was probably hiding near the door now, waiting for me to run straight into her jaws.

Instead, I backed further into the building, hoping to circle behind her. I wouldn't want to face Bei Fong on my best day, and right now I had a broken left hand and two cracked ribs. I was exhausted while she was fresh. If I fought her now, I stood less of a chance of winning than the Rabaroos have of becoming boxing champions. I pricked my ears, trying to locate her through her footsteps. She had probably wanted to catch me off-guard by having her guards shut off their flashlights, but all that accomplished was to even the playing field. I couldn't see her, but she couldn't see me either. If I was careful, I might just be able slip past her to the door.

There was a sound like flesh hitting dirt. I tensed, trying to judge where it came from, how close it had been. Did Bei Fong just…stomp the ground? I had no clue why she was giving away her position so readily, but I wasn't about to look an ostrich horse in the mouth. Keeping as far away from the source of the sound as possible, I slid along the right wall, inching closer and closer to the door. The darkness smothered me like a blanket, swallowing all of my movements. Still your heartbeat. Breathe as little as possible. As long as I moved quietly, there was no way Bei Fong would be able to find me.

Her fist solidified out of darkness. I slammed against the wall hard enough to splinter the wood, clutching at the tender bruise over my chest. Make that three broken ribs.

Panic swelled. I fought the overpowering urge to bolt for the door – my clattering footsteps would mark me a target as surely as painting a neon sign on my back. Stiffening my entire body, I forced myself to remain absolutely still, to give her no hint of my position. It was difficult to breath. How did she see me? Straining my eyes, I searched for Bei Fong in the darkness, but it was like trying to find a raven flying over the Black Cliffs during midnight. I saw nothing, felt nothing, heard nothing but my own pained gasps. Where would she strike next? From the right? From the left? From above?

From below. Her uppercut smashed into my chin, brass knuckles digging deep into the cleft of my jaw. I felt myself lifted an inch into the air. My head rung like a bell. I must have blacked out for a few seconds, because the next thing I knew was my right cheek pressed tightly against the floor, the taste of dirt mingling with blood in my mouth. Shakily, I stood up. The darkness around me was absolute.

"Is that all you have, Avatar? I had hoped you'd put up a better show."

Her voice sounded everywhere at once. She was enjoying this, that sadist. How did she know where I was? She must have had the eyes of a cat owl. It didn't matter. My flesh was jelly over my bones. The inside of my cheek was a bloody mess. Muscles contracted and retracted, contracted and retracted, contracted and retracted, each cycle more excruciating than the cycle before. One more hit and I was done for. I steeled myself, biting on the red-hot desperation boiling in my throat. I was going down, but I wasn't going down without one last fight.

I closed my eyes.

From the left. All I felt was a rush of wind, a shift in the darkness, a prickling down my sweat-soaked skin. It was enough. I leaned forward _into_ her blow. The impact was like a sledgehammer smashing into my shoulder, brass knuckles punching through flesh as if it were paper. My arm snapped backwards and hung limply at my side. The pain tasted like victory. With my one good hand I grabbed her wrist, my grip as sure as folded steel. Her arm struggled like a live snake.

"Gotcha," I muttered, and slammed my head forward.

My forehead struck her face with a _crack_ like a twig snapping in two. Both us staggered backwards. For once in my life I was glad she was taller than I was; otherwise, my head would've smashed right into her helmet. My brain vibrated inside my skull like a tuning fork, but I knew the damage to her had been far worse. She moaned, her footsteps heavy and erratic in her lurch. _Now's your chance_ , the final vestige of my consciousness screamed. _Get to the door._

I took two steps and stumbled. Vertigo caught me, darkness swirling like a cheap watercolor painting. I found myself lying on my back. Blood seeped into my eyes. It was not my blood. I grinned up at the darkness.

"You should not have done that, Avatar."

Her tone was tight, controlled, underscored by the low brass of anger. A sweeter tone I have never heard.

A rush of wind. From the right, this time, but it didn't matter. Something heavy smashed into the side of my head, and the darkness of the warehouse was replaced by the darkness of unconsciousness.


	3. How About Those Rabaroos

A/N: Sorry for the hiatus. This story is now officially resumed. Two years – damn, I feel dated. When I started this Amon was still _the_ thing to write about. Next chapter (which is the final chapter) is already in the works and will come out much faster than this one.

Chapter Three: How About Those Rabaroos

I woke up with a hammer pounding inside my skull.

"Nice to see you're awake, Avatar."

Softly, tantalizingly, the world came out of haze. I blinked slowly and opened my eyes with the reluctance of a boxer after a KO. A dull bead of pain in my head throbbed as steadily as a beating djembe. My mouth tasted like ash. I groaned, and the noise that came out was sandpaper rubbing against gravel.

"Did you have a pleasant sleep? I hope you did, because from now on you'll be sleeping inside a cell."

It was the voice that brought me back. Cold, subtly arrogant, and as confident as an Arctic hippo in ice water. Even in my half-catatonic state, I would never forget who _that_ voice belonged to.

"Nice to see you, Lin," I said. "What a pleasant surprise."

Except it came out more like: "Nice…you…surprise." The rest of the words died on their way from my throat to my tongue. Nonetheless, she seemed to get the general gist of it.

"I'd watch my tongue if I were you, Avatar." Her face appeared in my circle of vision, a grey, blurry blob that looked like a cross between a sea prune and a puffinfish. A finger tilted my chin upwards into the light. "In three days your trial will commence, and after that you will finally be out of my hair. Permanently."

The single light bulb fixed to the ceiling set off luminous explosions across the membranes of my eyes. The room was cramped and windowless and smelled like something had just died. The only furniture was a bare metal table at the center, across which Bei Fong and I were seated. It was the most depressing place I'd ever been in, and I lived in an igloo for most of my life. I moaned, trying to shove her away, then realized that my hands were tied. Legs, too. I was strapped down on a hard wooden chair, steel ropes tying me down so tightly I couldn't feel any of my limbs. Not that it would've mattered, anyway. Even without the restraints I doubted I could've so much as stood up.

Something warm was pressed to my lips – a cup of water. I drank greedily. With every sip, the events of last night trickled into my brain – as did the pain. By the fifth sip I was fully conscious and ready to pass out again. Every part of my body hurt, and the only parts that didn't hurt were the parts that had their circulation cut off by the steel ropes. Three cracked ribs, a broken wrist, a dislocated shoulder, two broken knuckles, and a concussion, if my bookkeeping was accurate. Bei Fong and her metalshirts had beaten the ever-loving chakraout of me.

"Can you speak now?" Bei Fong asked, removing the cup.

I ran a tongue over my lips; it came away tasting like dried blood. "Nice to see you, too, Lin. It's been so long I was afraid you'd forgotten about me."

"Droll, as always. I do not think you quite understand your position, Avatar."

"I understand quite well," I said with a groan. The five-piece band was at full tilt again inside my skull, drums and luos and zhongs played by the Rough Rhinos themselves. "I gotta say, these aren't the best conditions I've ever woken up in."

"You're lucky you ever woke up at all. Your injuries were most grievous."

"Injuries inflicted by _you_."

She ignored me. "Do you know why you are here, Avatar?"

"Listen, Lin," I said, eyes darting around the cell. "I don't know what you've heard about the elbow leeches, but I swear it wasn't my fault. Nobody knows how those leeches got into the park's pond. It had nothing to do with me – "

"Elbow leeches? What are you talking about?"

"Huh? Elbow leeches? Who said anything about elbow leeches? I was talking about _mellow beaches_ – "

"I have no time for your idiocy," Bei Fong growled, leaning in so close to me I could see every stitch in the scars running down her cheek. But there was a new scar on her face – a brown, ugly thing that stretched jaggedly across the space between her eyes. I suppressed a smile – our last fight had not been so one-sided, after all. "You are in our interrogation room. It's been two days since we captured you in Depot 37. You've been out cold ever since."

"Two days?!"

"My only question is this, Avatar: What were you doing inside that warehouse?"

I furrowed my eyebrows, stalling for time by trying to look like I was thinking really hard. Good thing it wasn't the elbow leeches. Otherwise, I'd _really_ be in trouble. Still, I couldn't tell her that I had been looking for Zolt. That would only lead to questions about why I had been looking for him in the first place, and eventually, the topic would settle on Asami and her father. I had promised Asami no word of this affair would get breathed to the police. On the other hand, if Bei Fong caught me lying, I was liable to get beaten to bean paste – _if_ she caught me. I took a deep breath. Alright, Korra, it's time for your wits to take the spotlight. You need to tell a lie so clever, so believable, so well-fabricated, that even Bei Fong (whose nose, it was rumored, had the potency of a shirshu when it came to smelling out lies) would be taken in.

"I was looking for my friend's fire ferret!" I blurted out. Damn, that definitely wasn't my finest moment. "My friend – Bolin, you've heard about him, right? He used to be a former boxer – he lost his fire ferret a few days ago. Small little thing, red, hairy, about a foot long. He hired me to go look for it. Last place he saw it was at the docks, in one of the warehouse districts. That's all I was there for, honest."

"At three o'clock in the morning?"

"Fire ferrets…er…are nocturnal creatures. I thought everybody knew that."

"I _distinctly_ remember you saying something about looking for Zolt."

"Zolt? That's the, uh, fire ferret's name! Zolt the fire ferret! Bolin sure has a strange sense of humor, doesn't he?"

Her eyes narrowed. I gave her my most charming smile.

She grimaced. "It's not even worth the energy of pounding the truth from your corpse. It doesn't matter – we have enough evidence to lock you up for years. If you don't want to cooperate, I'll just mark it down as obstruction of justice, let the judge add a few more months to your sentence. Your trial's in three days. I suggest you enjoy your last moments."

I was so relieved at _not_ being beaten to bean paste that I almost missed what she said.

"Huh?"

"Did you turn deaf now, Avatar? I said your trial is in three days."

"Trial? For what?"

"For assaulting my officers!" She brought a hand to her face. "Maybe the brain damage was more severe than I thought. Spirits only know you weren't the sharpest jian in the armory to begin with. You injured four of my officers – and me – when we arrested you. Violence against an officer is a serious crime, in case you've forgotten."

I stared at her blankly. Realization came in the form of a slow, inexorable chill that reminded me of that one time I fell into a frozen river back in the South Pole.

"Serious damages, too," Bei Fong continued. "You broke Min's wrist, though that's nothing compared to the other three. Seizon is undergoing surgery for his fractured skull. Hei-Li has Grade III traumatic brain injury. Bing had it the worst. His windpipe was completely crushed, and he'll need extensive therapy if he ever wants to speak again. Altogether, even counting the fact that you're a juvenile, you'll earn at least four years, five if I'm lucky – "

"Five years!?" I exclaimed. In truth, I did feel sorry for what I did to those metalshirts. Still, nobody survived long in Republic City by overdosing on sympathy, and I was hardly in a position to worry about others right now. "I thought you ran a police station, not a daycare center! What's the police coming to these days? Five years just for a few scrapes?"

"No, much longer," Bei Fong corrected me. "Five years is just for your assault against my officers. It doesn't include all those other charges we have against you. Thirty-two total, if I remember correctly. Quite an accomplishment for someone so young. You're looking at a sentence anywhere from fifteen to twenty years long."

"Twenty years?" My voice came out much higher-pitched than was respectable. "That's longer than I've been alive! What the hell's going on? I'm innocent!"  
She snorted. "You, innocent? That's the funniest thing I've heard since open mic night at Narook's."

"If you think I'm going to be locked up for twenty years, you're crazier than a hippie on cactus juice! This is all just a scare tactic, just a bluff to worm a confession out of me. Well, I'm not falling for it! Name one thing I've done! Just _one._ You can't even do that, can you – "

"Assault against four police officers – "

"I meant besides that!"

"Willful destruction of three shops on Fifth Avenue – "

"That was the Triple Threats' fault!"

"Assault against a civilian in Republic City Park – "

"He was hitting on me! I just hit him back."

"Attempted smuggling of a polar bear dog – "

"Naga got sent back, didn't she? That's done with!"

"Interfering with police-instated curfew in Dragonflats – "

"An _unconstitutional_ curfew!"

"Numerous accounts of underage drinking – "

"Fine," I conceded. "You got me on that last one. But those other ones didn't count!"

" – and, of course, the Cabbage Corp. case."

My mouth dropped open. "You should be _thanking_ me for that. I captured Lau for you!"

"You _just_ captured Lau for us," she growled. "My men and I had been planning our raid for six months. We knew everything about Lau, from his habits to his associates to what he ate for lunch. Our net was cast wide. In another week we would've caught the entire Equalist faction stock and barrel, had _you_ not completely messed up our plans by blowing everything wide open before we were ready. You cost us our one chance to end the greatest threat Republic City had ever faced. I hope you're satisfied."

"Not my fault," I said sullenly. "My client didn't care about the Equalists. He just wanted Lau brought down. I'm not sure what drove that man to hate cabbages so much, but he wanted Lau deposed of as quickly as possible. I was just doing my job."

"Save your excuses for the jury, Avatar. You'll need it."

"This is impossible! Lies! Slander! Nobody will believe that I've done all those things!"

Bei Fong chuckled; her laughter held all the mirth of a pile of dead koala kittens. "It's moments like these that make me love my job, Avatar. Criminals like you who think themselves too clever to be caught are alwaysthe most satisfying to catch. There is no such thing as a free criminal, not in my city. It's past time you learned that."

"Listen, Lin, you don't want to do this," I pleaded. There was no chance in hell this was going to work, but when life gave you sea prunes, what else could you cook? "I'm in the middle of a case right now, a big one, a case that can shut down the Equalists once and for all. We're on the same side here! My client is very rich, very influential, and hotter than a dragon during Sozin's comet. Point is, I'm in a good spot right now. Got three thousand yuan sitting back in my office. Cold, hard cash. Picture those bills, crisp as anything you've ever seen, ol' Aang's face smiling at you from the center. You let me go, half of it's yours. Fifteen hundred yuan, just like that. Tempting, right? No? Alright, sixteen hundred – "

"How did I know it would come to this?" Bei Fong sighed, sitting down on the table edge with her fingers rubbing her temples. "Why do you think I bothered rescuing you from that warehouse? It would've been so much easier to leave you there, write your death off as an unavoidable accident, and close the lid on the case just like that. Instead I took you back and got your injuries treated – it took a good chunk out of our pocket, too, our budget's not so high these days. But the only other option was for you to die, Avatar, and that's simply not acceptable."

"Thank you," I said, genuinely touched.

"After all, a dead woman can answer for no crimes."

"Thanks anyway."

Bei Fong paced back and forth in front of me, her footsteps echoing like the footsteps of a great predator. "Or did you think that justice was merely a word, a concept we created to prevent society from collapsing around us? It is the other way around, Avatar. _We_ were the ones created to uphold justice. It is a concept that predates human existence and a concept that will live on long after you and I and this miserable city turn to dust. Those fools at the Council think they're above me. They think that just because they sign my paycheck that makes them immune. Nobody is immune, Avatar. You'll do well to never forget that. The richest politician and the poorest street rat are equal upon the scale – and what a fine scale it is. To uphold justice is to walk along the edge of a knife. Each crime calls for a reciprocal punishment, no more, no less. To let you die would've been as great a sin as to let you escape. _That_ , Avatar, is why I rescued you that night. That is why I will not let you go for every yuan in the world. That is why you are going to stand trial in three days, and afterwards you'll sit in prison for fifteen years or twenty or however long they lock you up for."

"That's wrong," I said desperately. "Justice isn't some inflexible thing soldered from steel and iron. It's as malleable as river clay and brittle as sandstone. You're starting to sound like an Equalist."

"An Equalist? Perhaps I am. We all are, at heart. Who in Republic City hasn't prayed for an end to the corruption, the violence, the squalor? You should know this better than anyone – you wallow in its filth every day. Thousands of workers slave away in factories so people like Hiroshi Sato can enjoy their chilled champagne after a dinner of roasted boarcupine. The Council is a democracy in name only. Politicians like Tarrlok win elections by buying votes from the poor – ten fen for a vote, what a deal! The Equalists are right in their message. It would be impossible for them to gain so much support if they were not right."

"So what are you doing here? Turn in your badge and jump onto Amon's ship. And while you're at it, if you could undo these bindings – "

"Amon is a fool. The Equalists may be fundamentally right, but they are led by a man whose only concern is for power, and that is why they will fail. Amon is in it solely for himself. His nature is identical to that of Zolt and Tarrlok except he disguises his intentions under a banner of Equality. If he rules, the tyranny will be bitter and long. No thank you, Avatar – I think I'll stay right here in my position as Chief of Police, where I have a finger on every criminal in this city and have but to squeeze my hand to crush him. Nobody hides from me for long. Not Amon, not Zolt, not Tarrlok, not Sato, and certainly nota seventeen-year old immigrant from the South Pole struggling to rub two fen together."

I stared up at the flickering light bulb and prayed that Boiling Rock at least served good cafeteria food.

* * *

They threw me head-first into a cell that smelled like mildew and week-old cabbage. Two beds that looked as hard as stone (and, in fact, were made from stone) sat on opposite sides of the room. A barred window high near the ceiling let in weary rays of sunlight. Home sweet home – for the next three day, at least, before my trial, after which I'd be moved into a more _permanent_ home. I sat down on one of the beds with my arms around my knees, resting my back against the wall and wondering what Spirit I had pissed off to deserve this. All of them, probably. I wasn't particularly religious.

Half-heartedly, I wracked my brain for an escape plan. I could dig my way out with a spoon – no, not enough time. I could attack my guard while he gave me my food – no, I wouldn't stand a chance in my current state. I could pretend to be sick so they would take me to the nurse – no, they'd just leave me in here. I could hide under the bed so the guards thought I was missing, then ambush them when they come to check –

Korra, you have been watching _way_ too many detective movers.

Glumly, I counted the spiders skittering across the floor. So this was how it ended. Not with a heroic self-sacrifice against all the forces of evil, spouting witty one-liners as I vanquished one faceless foe after another while Asami watched and cried her eyes out; but with a slow rot in a forgotten cell of Boiling Rock. Maybe those White Lotus guys back at the South Pole had been right. Maybe I should've just stayed. My biggest regret about all this was that I'd miss my chance to pound Tahno's face into the dust.

Of course, the trial hadn't occurred yet, so there was always the hope that I'd get off innocent. Yeah, right – that had as much a chance of happening as me shooting fire from my fingertips. All those words on Republic City's constitution like habeas corpus, impartial judge, jury of peers, presumption of innocence, etc. were just that – words on paper. In reality, criminal trials were decided long before the gavel hit the block. Bei Fong could rant about justice until the buffalo moose came home, but the truth was that our executive branch was more full of holes than season two's finale. With the crime rate skyrocketing like a flying bison in a tornado, the government dealt with it by simply locking up everybody accused of being a criminal. Unless you had money or connections, of which I had neither, you were as good as finished the moment you stepped into the courthouse. And right now, nothing short of a prison break would help me escape that fate.

"Unhand me! Can't a man go to the bathroom without one of you standing behind him?"

My heart skipped a beat. Maybe the Spirits were watching out for me after all. I pricked my ears. The voice coming down the hall sounded oddly familiar.

"Keep walking, old geezer. I don't want any trouble."

"O-Old? I'm only fifty-four, I'll have you know!"

"I don't care how old you are. If you struggle any more, I'll shock you."

"This is police brutality! A breach of civil rights! You unhand me this instant – Gah!"

The _zap_ made me wince. The cell door swung open and someone stumbled in, smoke sizzling from his body like a well-done bison steak. So much for a prison break. The door clanged shut behind him. Unsteadily, he picked himself up, pawing at the bars and shouting, "You'll regret this, you hear me? When I get out of here, you'll be the first person I sue! Every single yuan you've got! You hear me? I'm the most powerful man in Republic City!"

"Save your breath," I said. "He's already gone."

He turned around, apparently just noticing he had a new roommate. Suspiciously, he said, "Who are you? One of those Triad gangsters, no doubt. You lot get younger every year. Well, I'm not afraid of – A-Avatar?"

I stared at him, dumbstruck. That white, scraggly tanglethorn of a beard growing from his chin; those twitching eyes that always seemed on the verge of tears; the sallow, wax-colored skin that looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. He was wearing a black-and-white prisoner uniform instead of his usual cabbage-green robes, but I'd recognize that wrinkled face anywhere.

"Lau? Is that you?"

His face turned whiter than month-old rice cake. Frantically, he stumbled backwards, fell down, picked himself up, promptly fell back down again, crawled on his knees to the door, clutched the bars with jittery fingers, and screamed at the hallway:

"What's the meaning of this? Do you want to kill me? You can't put me in here with this – with this _beast_!"

"Watch what you call a lady," I snapped.

He jabbed a finger at me. "Lady? You're the one who put me in here! You're a beast! A demon! An animal!"

"I don't like this any more than you do. So stop screaming already, you old coot."

"I'm only fifty-four – "

"And I'm the reincarnation of an all-powerful demigod."

"Honestly! I really am only fifty-four! Why do people keep thinking I'm older?" He crossed his arms, doing his best to look indignant but, I noticed, still remained as far away from me as possible. "What are you doing here, Avatar? Ruining Cabbage Corp. wasn't enough for you? Throwing me in jail wasn't enough for you? You had to come here personally to torment me more?"

"Long story short, Bei Fong hates my guts. What about _you_? I thought you'd be rotting in Boiling Rock by now."

The mention of Boiling Rock sent him cowering to the ground, arms held in front of his head like I had just hit him. "Don't mention that place," he whimpered. "I don't even want to think about it. My lawyer managed to delay my trial for another month, but it won't last. What am I going to do? The government is on some sort of Equalist witch hunt, nobody will accept my bribes! If this keeps up, I might actually end up there! Me! In Boiling Rock! Can you imagine such a thing?"

"You won't last two minutes in there."

"Exactly! It's as good as an execution sentence! I'm not a criminal – alright, so _technically_ I am, but I'm not a violent criminal like _you_ are. Those felons in Boiling Rock will eat me alive! I'd get beaten to a pulp! My bones will be crushed to powder! My eyes will be plucked out of my sockets! My skin will be strung across – "

"Yeah, yeah, I couldn't care less about you. What about _me_?" I said in a sudden torrent of self-pity. "You're fifty-four years old, you won't live much longer anyway. Me? I'm only seventeen! I've still got my whole life ahead of me!"

"You? _You?_ You think you're worse off? What about me?" He paced around the cell, wringing his hands. "I worked my whole life to establish Cabbage Corp. It was my father's dream that one day, all the nations would recognize the beauty and deliciousness of the cabbage. The only thing I inherited from him was a worn-down cabbage stand, rebuilt after it was destroyed countless times by some rabble of kids, and from that one stand, I created the second-largest company in all of Republic City. Wealth! Fame! Power! I had it made! And now it's going to vanish, just like that! Fifty-four years of work down the drain because of _one_ bad decision? Those Equalists were the worst thing to ever happen to me! Don't worry, Lau, they said. We'll be unnoticeable, they said. Ten thousand yuan per month, they said. Oh, Spirits damn those Equalists!"

"Who cares about your stupid company? What about me?" I moaned. "I just got three thousand yuan for a job and now I can't use any of it. That's the most money I've ever held in my entire life! I could've bought myself a Satomobile with that money! I could've procured a license for Naga with that money! I could've bought a lifetime's worth of sake with that money!"

"Three thousand yuan? You think that's a lot? What about me? Cabbage Corp. has a total equity of over three million yuan! And now those bastards in the Council are going to rob me of every cent of it!"

"You think you have it bad? What about me? I just met the girl of my dreams – "

"Oh shut up, nobody cares about you," Lau seethed. " _You're_ the reason I'm in this whole mess. You and your goddamn detective business! I hope those bastards at Boiling Rock throw you into the volcano! I hope they tear out your entrails! I hope they string you up by your toes and dangle you from the ceiling! Oh, what am I going to _do_? One month! They're going to boil me alive and cut off my – "

"Yeah, yeah, your intestines, your eyeballs, your spinal cord, etcetera, I get it." I sighed, massaging my temples. Less than five minutes with this guy and already I had a headache the size of Ba Sing Se. "Maybe you should've thought of that _before_ you decided to deal with the most dangerous gang in Republic City."

"It's not my fault! The Equalists gave me such a good deal that it would've been a crime _not_ to accept. They even promised me that once they took over the city, they'll make me a Councilman. Can you believe that? Me? A Councilman? That'll show the world that all you need is some perseverance and a little bit of luck to make it big in the world!"

"You forgot a healthy dose of criminal tendencies," I said. "Besides, there's no chance in hell they were going to do that. The Equalists hate everybody who's not a poor, blue-collar worker, and you fail all three definitions. When they take over Republic City – _if_ they take over Republic City – you'll be left to hang just like the rest."

"Well, you'll be hanged just like me!" he retorted. And then, realizing what he just said, slapped his palm across his forehead. "I mean – they promised! Men of honor keep their word, something a harlot like _you_ wouldn't know anything about. Oh, I had it made! They even invited me to their rally! Amon himself was going to introduce me to all the Equalist big shots – "

"What rally are you talking about?" I said, suddenly alert.

"Oh, nothing much, just the biggest Equalist rally in _history_ ," he said smugly. "Everybody who's anybody is going to be there. The history of Republic City – of the _world_ – is going to be decided in two days. If only I wasn't stuck in here! It wouldn't be a stretch to call it the most important event since the city's founding. There's even supposed to be complementary egg custard tarts and pau buns…" He narrowed his eyes, looking at me suspiciously. "Why do you want to know?"

"Oh, no reason," I said, suddenly finding the ceiling very interesting. "I mean, might as well as talk about something while we're stuck here, right? How about those Rabaroos – "

"Well, forget it. I'm not telling you anything." He crossed his arms and turned his head away with a _harrumph_. "This is top-secret Equalist business, you understand. The things I know can blow this entire city wide open like a house of blasting jelly. I can't just tell _anyone_ about it."

"Come on, Lau, we're prisoners-in-arms! Practically family! You can tell me anything."

"No."

"How about a trade, then?"

He glanced at me out of one eye. "What kind of trade?"

"Something that'll be _very_ beneficial for you."

"If you're trying to use your feminine wiles, you can forget it. I hate muscular woman. I prefer small woman, with large breasts – "

"Spirits, no!" I screamed. "And please shut up, the last thing I want to hear about is your carnal preferences. I meant a trade of information. Someone hated you enough to hire me to take you out. Aren't you interested in finding out who it is?"

His eyebrows bunched together like two leech-a-pillars. I observed my nails, trying to appear entirely uninterested while simultaneously suppressing the urge to smash his face into the floor. I mean, who in the world could possibly find _me_ unattractive? Thank the Spirits Asami had better taste.

"Fine," he said at last. "But you go first."

"In your dreams."

"Well, so much for that then."

"Too bad," I said, turning my back to him. "I had some pretty juicy information, too. You wouldn't _believe_ who it was – "

"Alright, alright! I'll go first. You happy?" He scowled, sticking out his lower lip. "The rally's going to be held in two days at seven p.m. at one of my old factories, along the bank of the river. They paid me twenty thousand yuan for it. Would you have turned down that deal? What's this city coming to, when the spirit of capitalism – "

"Get on with it," I snapped.

"They didn't tell me the specifics, but Amon was supposed to be there, along with his chief lieutenant. It was supposed to be this whole team-building thing, you know, start off with some ice breakers, get everybody motivated to take down the government. Kwang's was supposed to cater also, but these things nevergo as advertised – first Kwang's too expensive, then they forgot to make reservations at Chang's, and before you know it Narook's catering…egg custard tarts, I'll be surprised if they didn't just hand everyone a bowl of jook! There was supposed to be this big demonstration, too. They never told me what it was, but if you ask me, those Equalists have a tendency to exaggerate. It's probably just free T-shirts or something."

"Who else is going to be there?" I pressed. "Anything about a rich, famous, genius entrepreneur?"

He positively preened. "Why yes, I _was_ invited – "

"Not you! I meant – just, forget it." I growled in frustration. I couldn't ask him about Hiroshi – that would put Asami at a liability, given how prone this guy was at running his mouth off. "What else do you know?"

"That's all. Now it's your turn. Who hired you?"

I shrugged. "Beats me."

His eyes bulged as large as those cabbages he was peddling. "What about our deal?" he spluttered, hands shaking. "You can't just break a deal! You promised!"

"I honestly don't know," I said. "He never gave me a name. He called me up one day and told me that he hated cabbages and that he wanted the head supplier in Republic City gone. He was willing to pay big yuan to make it happen. He gave me an Equalist tip that led me right to you."

"I knew it," Lau whispered. He hunched over, staring at a patch of dirt on the floor, twitching in a way that made me wonder if he'd gone crazy – _more_ crazy, I mean. "My father tried to tell me, but I didn't believe him. He told me that there was a conspiracy against the cabbage, an ancient conspiracy by the most powerful people in the world. Everywhere he went, he said, his cabbage stand was destroyed, under the most impossible conditions, and even when the same group of kids destroyed his stand over and over in broad daylight, nobody ever lifted a finger to help. Sinister forces stretching back thousands of years were at play, he told us. They feared the cabbage, feared its deliciousness, its medical applications, its potent aphrodisiac properties. We thought him crazy. Coincidence, it had to be, or simple delusions, but now…" he stood up, grabbing me by the arms. "Avatar! You must help me! We can't allow these conspirators to destroy the cabbage – "

" _Way_ too close," I said, pushing him away. "Get your crackpot theories out of here. I have enough troubles of my own."

"This must be fate! Fate drove us to this meeting – "

"Tell fate to get us out of here, then," I snapped. "'Cause you know, we're both stuck in prison – "

Two taps on metal. "Avatar," the guard said from the doorway. "Get out."

I stared at the guard, then turned back to Lau. "Now tell fate to make Asami appear naked – "

"Move it, Avatar! I don't have all day!"

"Oh no," Lau said, backing away. "You know too much. They've gotten you already. I'm going to be next. But I won't take this lying down, you hear me? You can kill us but you will never silence us. Long live the cabbage! Long live the cabbage!"

"Crazy old coot," the guard muttered as he dragged me down the hall. "They need to take him down to Boiling Rock already. His shouting makes it hard to sleep."

"What's this all about?" I said. "Where are you taking me? Did Bei Fong find out about the elbow leeches? Oh Spirits, she found out about the elbow leeches, didn't she? I swear I had nothing to do with it…Asami?"

My jaw dropped. It was an impossible sight, like seeing a panda lily on a volcano. The moment Asami saw me she rushed to my side, embracing me in a hug that brought my face exquisitely close to her chest. When she let go my head was swimming with the scent of jasmine. She was (fully clothed, disappointingly) dressed in a more conservative outfit than what she wore when she stepped into my office, a red-and-black jacket and pants that hugged her curves and showed off those slender legs. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

"She's here to pay your bail," Bei Fong said, walking up to us. Her eyes were two green slits and her jaw was clenched so tight the scars on her cheek stood out bright red.

"I'm sorry I took so long," Asami said. "I came as fast as I could when I heard about your arrest in the paper."

"I can kiss you right now," I said solemnly. She turned away, flushing.

"You have some powerful friends, Avatar," Bei Fong said. "I'm _very_ interested in how you got them."

"You look awful," Asami said, stroking my face. "You've gone through so much just for me. What have they done to you?"

"Don't worry, hon, I'll be back to my beautiful self before you know it." I prayed that it was true – I quite liked my face, and I wished my bones would hurry back to where they've always been. "What's this about bail I hear?"

Bei Fong's eyebrow twitched. Each word sounded as if it was torn from her throat like a particularly bad possum chicken bone. "I said your bail's been paid. You're…free…to…go."

I could feel my grin devouring my face. "Can you repeat that? I didn't quite catch it – "

"Get out!"

I got out. One arm around Asami, the other waving Bei Fong goodbye, I strutted out the door like I owned the whole damn place, never mind that my injuries still hurt like hell. I could feel Bei Fong staring at me, heating up the back of my neck. The sound of her teeth grinding together could've been featured in a recital hall. Her anger was sweeter than the all-you-can-eat buffet at Kwang's – albeit more expensive. Maybe Lau was right. Maybe it _was_ fate – I'll need to throw a couple of coins in the river for the Spirits.

"Three days, Avatar!" Bei Fong shouted behind me. "If you're not back here in three days on the minute I'll have your head!"

Like hell. The moment I stepped into the sunlight I was already making travel arrangements. Whaletail Island was a two-hour boat ride from the city, and from there Ba Sing Se was practically next door. I could also go to Omashu to the south – the mail system slides there were fantastic, so I've heard. Worst came to worst, I could join the Air Nomads, lie low for a few months before escaping back to the South Pole. And yet…I looked at the green-eyed goddess beside me, her eyebrows still drawn together as she looked at my wounds. Mentally I slapped myself. Three days, Korra. You have three days to get to the bottom of this. That's the least you can do for her

"Out of curiosity," I asked, "how much was the bail?"

"Twenty thousand yuan."

I let out a low whistle. Damn, Bei Fong must've hated my guts. "Still," I wondered aloud, "the police are allowed to deny bail if they think there's sufficient ground to do so – say, if they think there's no way in hell the suspect is ever coming back. I wonder why she let me go."

"I think you should go to a doctor immediately," Asami said. "You look like you lost a fight with a saber-tooth moose lion."

"That's not too bad a comparison." I ran my finger along my jaw where Bei Fong had broken it. "But there's no time. I need to prepare for the rally."

"What rally?"

"Asami, we've got some catching up to do."


	4. A Strange Feeling of Déjà vu

A/N: We did it – Korrasami won. I remember when I started this fic, when Korrasami was still a crack pairing. How times change! This chapter took longer than expected because I got side-tracked with the Season 4 ending and started another Korrasami fic. Anyway, here's the final chapter.

A Strange Feeling of Déjà vu

"Asami, are you sure about this?"  
"I'm sure."

"You don't need to come with me, you know. It's going to be dangerous – "

"I can take care of myself. Don't worry about me."

I resisted the urge to slam my face into the brick alley wall. I liked strong-willed woman (like myself), but this girl was too strong-willed for her own good (also like myself). An Equalist rally was no place for a lady like her – even with that brown coat and hood she was turning heads. Tucking my cap over my face, I peeked around the corner of the alley to the entrance of Lau's factory. A guard stood in front. From within came the soft murmurings of a crowd. They were getting ready to start.

"One last time. Are you sure about this?"

Asami's green eyes stared straight into mine. "I'm sure."

"Then let's go. Stay close to me."

The guard crossed his arms when we approached. He was the size and shape of a war balloon, with a buzz cut and biceps as large as a pile of rocks – probably as smart as one, too. It shouldn't be too much trouble to knock him out, but that was a bad way to remain incognito.

"This is a private event," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"No one gets in without an invitation."

I glanced at Asami. "Is he for real? Did he really just ask us that?"

He frowned. "What'd you say?"

"What's the Equalists coming to, hiring dumb riffraff off the streets? I thought Amon had better sense than that."

"Did you just call me dumb – "

"Listen here," I snarled, jabbing my finger into his chest. "I'll forgive you this once, since you're obviously new. But the next time you disrespect a VIP – _two_ VIPs – your head will be rolling through the gutters faster than a cranefish hopped up on moon peach. Understand?"

He vacillated, eyes darting from my face to Asami's. I crossed my arms, feet tapping against the ground. He swallowed, hard.

"Understood, sir."

"That's _madame_ to you. Newbies," I said to Asami with a disgusted shake of my head. We walked past his awkward salute into the building. Asami's grip on my arm didn't loosen until we heard him greet the next arrivals. She let out a big breath.

"You're amazing, you know," she said.

"That was the easy part. Hard part's coming up."

Inside was damp and dark, the air alive in the only way thousands of people gathered in a cramped space could make it alive. We made our way down the balcony to the back of the crowd – factory slaves, metalworkers, construction workers, street performers, squatters, miners. It was a gathering of the disenfranchised. In a corner Equalists were handing out T-shirts stamped with Amon's face. At the front sat a stage lit by floodlights. A massive poster of Amon holding up his fist plastered the back wall, light rays emanating from his fist. Flanking it were two smaller posters depicting the character _pin_ inside a red circle.

"Stay close to me," I said again. Asami clutched my arm tight against her chest, but for once I was too high-strung to enjoy it. The crowd pressed in around us. My eyes searched the darkness, building a blueprint of the building. Beside the entrance we just came through, there was only one other entrance – a fire exit on the right wall, just close enough for us to reach if we had to. Chi-blockers stood around the perimeter every fifty feet. Twenty total, three of them armed with kali sticks. I shuddered, imagining getting struck with those fifty-thousand volts. Seems like the Equalists didn't want anyone getting in _or_ out.

The lights went dark. A voice boomed:

"Please welcome your hero, your savior…Amon!"

The stage floor opened. I'll give it to Amon – he had a flair for the dramatic. He rose from the ground with his hands clasped behind his back, head lowered, bathed in shadow. So this was the most dangerous man in Republic City. He was shorter than I expected. The crowd roared. _Amon. Amon. Amon._ Asami's fingers dug into my skin. I squeezed her hand. When Amon raised his head the rest of the stage lights came on, illuminating his red-and-white mask, and, peering out beneath, two deep-set golden eyes.

"My quest for Equality began many years ago…"

This guy wouldn't last two seconds in front of Lin, I thought. His sob story about gang members killing his parents had more holes than puma goat cheese, not that the crowd was as perceptive as I was – they lapped it up like a fire ferret lapping up watermelon juice. At the end, he held up his hands. The crowd fell silent immediately.

"I know that you have been wondering. What is the Revelation? You are about to get your answer. For thousands of years, the amoral has preyed upon the moral. Greed, gluttony, lust, wrath, sloth, envy, pride – these have been the cause of every war in every era. What if there was a way to remove the roots of sin…permanently? Imagine it – a world free of violence, where a child needs not worry that his parents might never come home, where a woman needs not worry about stepping out at night, where a slave needs not worry about the sting of his master's whip. Imagine a world where the word _crime_ ceases to exist!"

The crowd's cheers shook the building and my bones. I could imagine it – it was too beautiful to be true. Amon stepped to the side, gesturing behind him. The stage floor opened. Through it rose…a chair, a chair with more plugs and wires than a Satomobile, made of copper polished to a brilliant sheen, shining like glowflies under the spotlight. Wires ran along the entire length of it, culminating in a round, perforated cap hanging off the top.

Asami gasped. "I've seen that machine. It was in my father's blueprints. I could never figure out what it was supposed to do."

"We're about to find out," I said grimly.

"Now, for a demonstration," Amon continued. A group of chi-blockers walked on stage, escorting an old man with greying hair, who despite being bound with ropes was still scowling at the world. "Please welcome Lightning Bolt Zolt, leader of the Triple Threat Triad, and one of the most notorious criminals in Republic City."

"Ah, boo yourself," Zolt said to the crowd. Four more Triple Threats were escorted up to the stage and forced to their knees. My eyes widened at the last one – Tahno, and from the bruises on his face, it seemed the Equalists had treated him even worse than I had. Strangely enough, I wasn't as happy to see him up there as I should've been. I got the feeling that not even he deserved what was coming to him.

"Zolt has amassed a fortune by extorting and abusing the common people, but his reign of terror is about to come to an end," Amon said. He turned to Zolt. "If you were freed right now, what would you do?"

"I'm gonna kill ya!" he shouted. "After I kill ya I'm gonna kill every last dog in your organization! Nobody disrespects Zolt, ya hear me? Nobody!"

"Remember those words. Now, in the interest of fairness, I will give Zolt the chance to fight for his freedom."

The guard unloosened the ropes. For a second Zolt just stared, dumbstruck, much like I was. Then he smiled.

"You gonna regret doin' that, pal."

Zolt had been a former boxer in his day. He had been a contender for the title before he decided that crime was a more lucrative use of his abilities. Of course, it's been years since he actually had to fight anyone personally, but just by looking at him I could tell he hadn't been sitting around eating egg custard tarts. He was all muscle, solid in the way a banyan-grove tree only got more solid through time. His hands curled instinctively into fists. There was still bloodthirst in his eyes.

Amon _dismantled_ him.

I caught the start – Zolt throwing a left hook – and I caught the end – Zolt lying face-down on the ground. I blinked and missed all the parts in the middle.

Zolt groaned, blinking the blood out of his eyes. Amon lifted him by the collar and shoved him into the chair. Two chi-blockers strapped his arms and legs down. He continued to struggle, shouting profanities at the top of his lungs, but there was a quiver in his voice now, his tone half a note higher, his words more panicked. Gently, the chi-blockers fitted the metal cap over his skull. The veins in his neck stood out as he tried to turn his head. He could only stare forward with eyes wide as moon cakes.

Amon turned to the crowd.

"I present to you…the Revelation."

The room when dark. Somewhere a switch was thrown. The chair lit up with the neon-blue sparks of electricity. Zolt began to convulse, eyes bulging, every muscle clenched as the metal cap on his head sparked so brilliantly it was like watching lightning; I heard a sizzling, like grilling meat. His mouth stretched so wide I could see his tongue flap around in the cavern of his throat. His fingernails scrabbled at the armrest so hard they broke. The blood ran down the wires. Not one person in the audience of thousands spoke; it was doubtful anyone breathed. Zolt's screams continued long and unbroken in the silence.

I would remember the electricity, the rolled-up eyes, the screams. At the time it seemed to be several hours before the lights came back on and Zolt stopped moving, limp against the chair with the air around him hot enough to shimmer.

The chi-blockers unclasped his arms and legs. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

"Good evening," Amon said. "Do you know who I am?"

Zolt ran his tongue over his lips, bloody where he had bit himself. "You're…Amon."

"Very good. You're free now. What would you like to do?"

Zolt blinked very slowly, once, twice. His expression was that of a child's who had been posed a difficult question by his teacher. He looked at Amon, then to the audience, then back at Amon. "I don't…understand."

"No need to be shy. Moments ago you said you wanted to kill me. Do you still want to do that?"

"Kill…you?"

Amon picked him up with one hand and threw him on the floor.

"Come now, Zolt! What happened to your rage?" Amon kicked him in the face, the toe of his boot striking him across the nose. Zolt's head snapped back. He cowered against the floor, arms held in front of him. Amon kicked him again, twice, three times, until his face was as swollen as an ocean kumquat soaked in lye. Zolt started to cry. He curled into a ball, head buried in his knees.

Sometime during the demonstration the crowd had stopped being silent. The noise must have rose gradually, but I wasn't aware of it until Amon turned to the audience again, and then the sound hit me in a single torrential burst. _Amon. Amon. Amon._ I staggered, holding onto Asami for support. She was still and pale.

"The age of crime is at an end, my brothers! Observe Zolt, once so full of rage, now docile as a lamb kitten! All criminal thoughts have been purged from his brain. He is now incapable of violence – he is simply another kind citizen, much like yourselves, eager to do his part in our society. With this, criminals everywhere will finally be able to atone for the wicked lives they've led. With this, there will be no more violence, no more theft, no more blackmail, no more murder! With this, all citizens can enjoy their new, crime-free lives! A new era of equality has begun!"

The crowd surged forward, lapping at the base of the stage like worshippers to a shrine. "Equality like hell," I muttered. "Zolt's got the brains of a buffalo yak now."

"This is terrible," Asami said. "How could they do that to him?"

"Yeah, well, try keep your voice down. This isn't really the best place for those opinions."

Asami pressed her lips next to my ear, so close I could feel her breath on my earlobe. "What they did to him was worse than death. How can everybody cheer like that?"

"They've lived under the Triad's thumb for years. Many lost their businesses to them. Many lost friends or family to them."

"I had no idea things were this bad."

"There's a lot you don't know, princess – Hey! Watch it!" I snapped at a particularly enthusiastic man who had charged into me, almost sending me sprawling to the floor. He looked at me sheepishly.

"Sorry, miss, I'm just excited – wait a sec, aren't you that Sato girl?" He squinted, peering at Asami. "What are you doing here?"

Asami pulled her hood down, turning away. "There's been a mistake. I'm not her."

"No, you're definitely her. I still have that photo of you from _Mechanical Weekly_! You look ever better in person. Huh, I never thought I'd see you here."

Others turned towards us. "We're getting out of here. Now," I said. I grasped Asami's hand and shoved my way through the crowd, through the mass of bodies surging forward and backward, side to side, a living wave of flesh and sweat and noise. Bright blue sparks of lightning lit up the stage. They had started on the other Triad members. I saw a flash of Tahno's terrified face.I saw the deadpan mask of Amon. I saw the ecstasy painted on the audience members. The red glow of the ESCAPE sign finally caught my eye. Next to it stood a chi-blocker, his goggles bright green in the darkness.

"This might get ugly," I said to Asami. "Wait here."

I inched closer and closer to the chi-blocker, letting the crowd disguise my movements. Luckily, he was also staring at the stage – Amon must've kept him out of the loop. He didn't start to turn until I was right behind him. Pulling my arm tight across his neck, I dragged him to the ground, keeping the pressure on. His neck muscles tensed under my hold. Beneath his mask I saw the outline of his mouth, trying to scream, but those dry whispers were swallowed in the cheers of the crowd. At last he sagged in my arms. I laid him on the ground.

I motioned for Asami to come. She walked towards me, then started to run, eyes wide. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish underwater.

Two feather-light taps on my shoulder. My arm went stiff, clenched so tight the tendons popped. I whirled around just in time to avoid the second blow aimed at my other shoulder. Mentally, I slapped myself. Goddamn it, Korra – playing dead was the oldest trick in the book. The chi-blocker came at me again. I managed to block his first three strikes, couldn't block the fourth that sent me tumbling to the floor. Before I hit the ground there were two more taps on my other arm. I lay there in the darkness, struggling to get back up as he loomed above, fingers poised over my forehead.

He screamed. His body convulsed, electricity dancing across his limbs. He fell to the ground. For sure, this time. Over him stood Asami. She flexed the fingers of her shock glove.

"Nice toy," I grunted as she helped me up. "Why didn't you tell me you brought one of those? On second thought, we can talk later."

That shock glove had caught the attention of every chi-blocker in the room. They started towards us, moving wordlessly, as one. But the chill that ran up my spine had nothing to do with them.

Amon was staring at us from the stage. It was a silly thing to imagine, because it was dark and he was wearing his mask and he was much too far away for me to see even if he didn't have his mask on – but I swore he smiled.

I kicked open the fire escape door.

"Run!"

* * *

I stepped into my office and instantly collapsed on the couch. That old, mothball-ridden piece of junk was the most comforting sight I'd ever seen. My office was as beautiful as the Royal Palace – those torn curtains, the broken-down radio, the lightbulb whose highest setting was dim, the dresser that seemed ready to collapse if you so much as leaned on it. Even the plastic flowers on the desk almost smelled like real fire lilies. Home, sweet home. At last.

Behind me, Asami closed the door and took off her jacket. She was still out-of-breath from our escape. We managed to lose the Equalists between fifth and sixth, turning into a side street that connected to twenty-second street, before coming here through the back alleys. Tentatively, I flexed my arms. The pins-and-needles sensation was almost comforting – I could feel them now, at least. Asami took a seat beside me, wiping her face with a lace handkerchief.

"I can't believe my father," she said. "All this time, I thought he was the greatest person in the world. Why would he make something like that?"

"Fear can make a person do crazy things," I said. "Fear, and love."

"We need to go to the police immediately – "

I shook my head. "Won't work. Hiroshi has power, influence, and money. The police will never risk investigating him unless they're one-hundred percent sure he's guilty. We have no evidence – my word is worth as much as the slime from a koala otter's back to Bei Fong. It'll be your word against your father's, and no offense, darling, but that'll be the most one-sided contest since the Rabaroos went against the Tigerdillos."

"So what do we do?"

"We look for evidence, what else? You know your father better than anyone. Making that machine required a lot of resources. Where could he have done it?"

Asami bit her lip. "He could've made it in any of our factories. There's too many to check – "

"Too risky. Putting it in a regular factory means putting it at risk of exposure. There's hundreds of factory workers around, not to mention surprise inspections from the government. Someone as smart as him would never take that risk. He made it in secret somewhere. It must be accessible from his house, since he needs to go there frequently without letting anyone see him. Think, Asami. Has your father ever disappeared for long stretches of time anywhere?"

Asami narrowed her eyes, staring at some spot on the floor. Poor girl – here I was, asking her to betray her father, right after she had almost been captured by the worst gang in the city – but the expression on that face was not of distress but determination. "His workshop," she said at last. "It has to be his workshop. It's located right next to our house. He goes there for entire days at a time. It's always locked. He never lets anyone inside, not even me."

"Good. That has to be where he's developing the Equalist technology."

"We can get there by – "

"Woah, slow down," I said, holding up my hands. " _We_? I'mthe only one that's going. You're going to be staying right here."

"Korra, I need to come. I need to see it for myself."

"It's too dangerous for you – "

"Dangerous? Who was the one that saved your life less than twenty minutes ago?" Asami crossed her arms, looking at me like a parent explaining a simple concept to her dimwitted child. "He's _my_ father. I need to be there."

"No way. You're not coming. Either I go alone, or I don't go at all."

"Then don't come! I'll go by myself. Who needs you anyway?"

I rubbed my temples – she _would_ go by herself. It'll be like an otter penguin diving into a pool of dolphin piranha. This must be exactly how my own parents felt when I told them I was going to Republic City. And, also much like back then, I got the feeling she wasn't going to take _no_ for an answer.

"Fine, you can come," I said. "But you do everything I say, got it? To the letter. One screw-up can mean the end of both of us."

Her eyes lit up. "Great! When do we start?"

"Tonight."

"So soon?"

"Those guys at the rally saw your face, and your face is damn memorable – in the good way, of course. Plus, I'm not exactly anonymous either. It's only a matter of time until they find us. The longer we wait, the less chance we have. It might already be too late."

"Tonight…" she rested her head against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. "Eighteen years of my life. This time tomorrow everything I know will be changed."

"Whatever happens, happens. You're strong enough to handle it." I squeezed her shoulder. She looked like she needed a pick-me-up. Hell, so did I. I walked over to my desk and took out the bottle of '32 Domaine stashed in the drawer. It was the most expensive thing I owned – I could've sold it to pay a year's worth of rent, but there were some pleasures in life more precious than yuan. When I uncorked it, the aroma of bacui berries and lychee nuts filled the room. I poured out two cups.

"Thanks," Asami said, swirling the red liquid twice before taking a sip. She nodded approvingly. "Where'd you get this?"

"It's a long story."

"I'm listening."

"It was about a year ago," I said, settling in. Asami was delightfully close on the couch, her leg brushing against mine. "I was investigating Shady Shin, a bigshot Triple Threat recruiter. He was a nasty piece of work, taking poor street kids from the lower quarters under the pretense of getting them good jobs. Used them as fodder for turf wars. Most of them didn't survive the first fight. Most of them were younger than us. My client's son was a victim. He wanted revenge. Offered up everything he had – his salary, his house, his clothes. Worth about a hundred yuan if you put it all together. A case this dangerous required a lot more than that, but I had known the kid. Good kid – not very bright, but a good kid. Shin needed to be taken care of. Problem was, I couldn't just straight up ice him – "

"Ice him?"

"Kill him," I explained. "You know, like how they put bodies on ice to preserve them. I couldn't just kill him, because that would paint a target on my back even Toph Bei Fong could see. I had to take him down more subtly. The easiest way would be to deliver him to the metalshirts. I trailed him for two weeks and turned up nothing. As expected, he knew how to keep his record clean. Only clue I gathered was that he spent a lot of time in his penthouse. Real posh place, gold door knobs, velvet drapes, and silverware so shiny you could use them as candles. Of course, security was tighter than Bei Fong's vow of celibacy after she broke up with the Councilman. I had to – "

"The police chief had a relationship with a Councilman?" Asami interrupted. "I've never heard about this."

"Few people do. They try to keep it under wraps. Bei Fong's got a reputation to uphold, after all. I heard that when Tenzin broke up with her she trashed the entire island."

Asami burst into laughter. "Tenzin? That old baldy? With Bei Fong!"

"Hard to imagine, isn't it?" I grinned. "Anyway, it was pretty clear that Shin was keeping something in that penthouse. I managed to get in with a pair of blue overalls and a toolbox. Best security in the world couldn't stand up to twenty yuan's worth of props. Told them I got a call to fix a gas leak. They let me in themselves. I searched everywhere. Under the bed, in the drawers, behind the paintings – I tore up the place like a Si Wong sandstorm. But no luck. Bastard kept his valuables hidden. I was just about to give up and hightail it out of there when a section of the wall caught my eye. The paint job was newer, and part of it was sticking out, like a door. It _was_ a door. Used to be a closet, until Shin painted over it, trying to hide it. You won't believe what I found."

"The wine?"

"No."

"A lot of money?"

"No."

"What?"

"Woman's clothes."

She raised an eyebrow. "So? He was married? A mistress? That's hardly a felony."

"No, you don't get it – the clothes weren't for his girlfriend or wife or whatever. They were for _him_." I had to laugh at her expression, eyes wide as a winged lemur's. "Bunch of photos, too, that he must've took himself. He was prancing around in size D's with Kuai balls glued to his chest. Lots of stockings and garterbelts, with a penchant for lace. Trust me, you did _not_ want to see those photos – I still have nightmares about them. But they were exactly what I needed. I grabbed them and hightailed it out of there."

"That's just…why…I don't…" Asami laughed, shaking her head. She took another drink. "Spirits make them in all ways, I suppose. What'd you do next?"

"I called him up. Told him I'd give back the photos for ten thousand yuan and a bottle of his finest wine. I'd never seen a man so relieved my entire life." I grinned, tapping a finger against my head. "Thing is, I'd already made copies and sent them to every newspaper outlet in the city. The next morning Shin left town with half the city laughing at him. Last I heard, he's in the Patola Mountains, herding puma goats and shunning all outside contact."

"That's crazy," Asami said. Her laughter was as beautiful as the rest of her, high and breathy, lingering in the air as she drained the last of her cup. I poured her another. She nestled close to me, head resting against my shoulder, staring at the wine held between her thumb and forefinger. "So that's how this came to be here. I wish my life was as exciting as yours."

"Me? _You're_ jealous of _me?_ Everyone in this city would kill to be able to live like you."

"I suppose I'm selfish." She laughed again, then her voice grew sober. "Would they, if they knew? Would they want to live a childhood where their mother was killed in front of them?"

"Sorry," I said. "I didn't know."

"Few people do." She smiled. "We have a reputation to uphold, after all."

"I'm always here for you."

She lifted her head, staring into my eyes. She was so close I could smell the sweetness of the wine on her breath. Her fingers traced my jaw, soft and spidery. I leaned in for the kiss – then she let go, resting her head on my shoulder again.

"It was a break-in," she said. "We lived in a one-room apartment in a bad part of town. This was before my father made it big. We were sitting down to dinner. The doorbell rang. My father went to get it. I heard a lot of shouting, and something hitting the floor, and then a bunch of men I didn't know came into the kitchen. My mother reached for the telephone. They seized her and slammed her head against the wall – they weren't trying to kill her, I don't think, but they cracked her skull. They tied me up and took everything we had – the money, the jewelry, the securities. My mother died before the ambulance arrived. My father was never quite the same after that."

"I'm sorry," I said again, feeling more useless than an air acolyte on a boxing team. And I thought growing up isolated in a compound was bad.

"It's not your fault," Asami said, smiling. "You're the first person I've told this to…thank you. I mean it." She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek – her lips were still wet and cold from the wine, her perfume even more intoxicating. "You don't have to do this. Risking your life for me. Thank you."

"Anything for you," I said once my tongue worked properly again. My face must've been hotter than Fire Nation komodo chili, but Asami didn't seem to notice. She set the wine glass – empty again – on the table, and sagged against me, eyes closed.

"I think I drank too much."

"Get some sleep," I said. "It's been a long day."

"Are you sure? I don't want to be late – "

"I'll wake you up when it's time. Don't worry. Get some sleep."

There were things in this world she should never have to endure, I thought sadly, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. One tragedy was already more than she deserved. I wasn't about to let her experience another. The Equalists, the Triads, the police – these were the dirt and stains of _my_ world. She lived up there in the clouds. For a brief moment she had fallen, or maybe I had risen, and our worlds had crossed like the second hand and hour hand of a clock, aligned for a single moment before diverging again. That was the way it was. That was the way it should be.

I waited until her breaths became deep and rhythmic. Outside the streetlights flickered on. I stood up and immediately missed her warmth. With the sense that I was leaving some part of myself irrevocably behind, I gathered my jacket and stepped out of the office. I couldn't resist one last look at her face.

"I'm sorry," I said, and gently closed the door.

* * *

I kicked the door open. The squalid piece of wood crumpled under my foot like a cabbage under an elephant rhino.

"Rise and shine, gentleman! I've got a job for you two!"

"Korra? Is that you?" Bolin said blearily, sitting up from his bed.

Mako was on his feet instantly, fists raised. "Get out of here! We don't have anything worth stealing – oh, it's just you, Korra," he said, putting down his hands. Then he started and raised his fists again. "Korra! What the hell are you doing here? What did you do to our door? I thought I told you we never wanted to see you again!"

"Do you know what time it is?" Bolin said, rubbing his eyes.

"Time to make some money! Don't you guys just love money? I've got a job for you."

Mako sighed, massaging his eyes. "Look, Korra, I've had a long day at the factory. I'm in no mood for your jokes – "

I slapped the stack of yuans on the table and watched their eyes widen.

"How much is that?" Mako finally managed. Poor guy – and I mean poor literally. He's probably never seen so much money in his life. Combined.

"Three thousand yuan," I said. It was the last of Asami's advance. "All yours, if you help me with this job."

Mako stared at the money like it was a ming snake. Tentatively, he picked it up, riffled through it, held a bill up to the light. "It's real," he said in disbelief. "Three thousand yuan. Where did you get this?"

"Not important. Are you going to help me or not?"

"What's the catch? If you want us to 'donate' organs you can forget it – "

"Psh, you think you guys are worth three thousand yuan? Don't flatter yourselves. With all the garbage you guys eat it's a miracle you didn't keel over yet. Job's just a few hours. Tonight. Right now. You'll be done by morning."

He raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Raid on an Equalist base."

He dropped the money like a live boar-q-pine and shoved me out the door. "Forget it."

I pushed him off me. He stumbled backwards, looking at me in surprise – we argued a lot, but I almost never got physical. Part of me hated what I was about to do. I may not always see eye-to-eye with these guys (actually, just Mako – Bolin and I got along fine), but they deserved better than a possible death in a forgotten gutter. Still, there was no other choice. Leaning against the doorframe, I crossed my arms. "I need your help, and I don't care if I need to beat you half to death to get it."

Mako narrowed his eyes. "We don't want anything to do with the Equalists."

"I have to agree with my bro here," Bolin said. "Sorry, Korra. It's too dangerous."

"Dangerous? I didn't know you guys were a pair of possum chickens ready to be sent to the oven. Sorry, Korra, it's just too dangerous. The mean old Equalists are just too dangerous! I just want to curl up inside this leaky shack where it's _safe_ and where I can pretend nothing is going on – "

"Shut up," Mako snapped. "Get out of here."

"You ever going to man up for once in your life? Poor wittle Mako, too scared to step outside – "

"Who gave you the right to barge into our house?" he snarled, slamming his fist against the wall. "If you want to throw your life away taking on the Equalists, then go ahead. Spirits only know the world will be better off. Just don't expect us to carry out your funeral rites. Get. Out. If I ever see your face again, I swear I'll punch you."

"Try."

Bolin was suddenly between us. "Come on, now, guys, there's no need for that. We used to be teammates!" He smiled awkwardly, pushing the two of us apart. Mako's eyes never left mine, fists clenched tightly at his sides. I met his eyes unblinkingly.

"I'll say it again. Three thousand yuan. One job. Tonight."

"Did you go deaf? We said _no_. What the hell's wrong with you?" Mako frowned. "What's your sudden beef with the Equalists anyway?"

"Yeah, telling us why might help," Bolin said.

"Do I need a reason? You've seen what they're like. I've seen – I've seen more," I said softly. "A secret rally. Thousands of people gathered before Amon. They had Zolt – the most notorious criminal in the city, and they were showing him off like a prized goat dog. You should've seen the way he twitched. One minute alive and fighting, the next minute crawling on the floor, crying as they beat him and he couldn't raise a hand to defend himself. Amon promised the same to the rest of the city. He'll do it. I swear he'll do it. This isn't a problem you can hide from. One day he'll come for you and then it'll be too late."

Mako looked away. "It's none of our business."

"Is it? That's what the policeman said. He saw a bunch of gangsters walking around late one night and thought, 'I'm off duty soon. Let the next guy handle it. It's none of my business.' You know what happened next? Those gangsters killed your parents. After that they killed a couple more people, maybe they're still out there right now, all because some stupid guy thought _it's none of my business_ – "

Mako's fist came flying at my head. I let it hit me across the jaw. Damn nearly dislocated it.

"Don't you _dare_ drag our parents into this."

"What's the matter, afraid of what they'll think when they find out their sons turned out to be a pair of possum chickens?" This time I caught his punch – I deserved the first, but I sure as hell didn't deserve a second. My fingers locked tight over his fist as he struggled. "Does hitting me make you feel better? Think it'll bring back your parents? Nothing will. But you have the chance to prevent it from happening to someone else. A little girl will be eating dinner when the doorbell rings and a bunch of men in masks come into the kitchen and kill her mom in front of her. It'll happen. Thousands of times it will happen. You want others to go through the hell you went through? You have the chance to prevent it all."

His breath came out hard and fast. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He bared his teeth, glaring at me beneath drawn eyebrows. In the periphery Bolin gulped, eyes darting back and forth between me and him, me and him. Slowly, I felt his Mako's fist relax. I let go. His hands fell to his sides.

He walked over to the table and picked up the stack of yuans.

"I know I'm going to regret this."

* * *

Hiroshi's mansion was a five-story, seven-thousand square feet building with a grounds larger than most villages. It was a beautiful house, commissioned by Hiroshi himself, built in modern style as a testament to his devotion to progress – or so I've heard, anyway, as I couldn't see an inch of it with walls surrounding the entire thing. Ten-feet walls lined with barbed wire, built from stone so smooth a canyon crawler wouldn't be able to find footholds. There were two entrances: an entrance at the back staffed by two guards, and the main entrance out front staffed by a small army. Hiroshi, it seemed, had a security insecurity. I've seen embassies with lighter protection.

On the way there I briefed Mako and Bolin on what was going on. I left out Asami, obviously. They didn't take it well, but by this point it was too late to back out.

"Hiroshi Sato?" Bolin said. "The Hiroshi Sato? CEO of Future Industries? Richest man in the world?"

"No, the _other_ Hiroshi Sato," I said. "You know, I'm getting a strange feeling of déjà vu."

"How are we supposed to break into the place?" Mako said. "Look at it! We've got a better shot of winning a fist fight against a badger mole."

"I've already got it figured out. Now, are you going to keep asking questions or can we finally start this thing?"

I peeked around the corner at the back entrance. The two guards stared ahead with faces carved from jennamite. I had a feeling the "what-did-you-just-say-to-me?" trick wouldn't work with these guys. But they were complacent. You could see it in their eyes – staring forward listlessly, wide open but seeing nothing. They were used to banality. Who would be stupid enough to break into the most heavily-secured place in the world?

"I'll distract them," I said. "You two knock them out. We'll find a spot for the bodies inside. I say we have about twenty minutes before they notice something's wrong. In that time, we need to get into his workshop, get the evidence, and get out. Got it?"

"Got what?"

I whirled around. She stood under the streetlight with her arms crossed and an I-know- _exactly_ -what-you-tried-to-do face.

"Asami?"

"I'm glad to see you, too," she said in a voice like a knife under velvet cloth.

"You should be asleep!" I said. "I mean, you looked so peaceful, I didn't have it in me to wake you – "

"Unbelievable!" Asami said, throwing her hands in the air. "You ditched me! After you _promised_ me you'd take me along, you just ditched me!"

Bolin whistled. "Friend of yours, Korra? Mind introducing me – "

"Not a chance. She's taken," I muttered. "Asami, try to understand. This is too dangerous – "

"Oh no, we are not having this talk again." She bent forward, jabbing a finger in my face. "I'm coming, and that's that. If you say anything but 'Yes, ma'am' I'll beat you so sore the other inmates are going to feel it, after I bring you straight back to the police. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said meekly.

"Good." She smiled, smoothing out her dress. She turned to Mako and Bolin. "I'm Asami Sato. Nice to meet you."

Mako's mouth could've fit a flying bison. " _The_ Asami Sato? Winner of the Miss Republic City – "

I jabbed him in the ribs. "We don't have time for this. Asami, this is Mako and Bolin, friends of mine – alright, more like henchmen. Mako and Bolin, this is Asami. Pick your jaws off the floor and let's get this show on the road before Sozin's comet comes again."

Asami's appearance complicated things, but I won't pretend I didn't feel safer with her backing me up. I strolled up to the guards, whistling _Don't Fall in Love with the Traveling Girl_. The night was young, redolent with the scent of something sharp, something spicy. The night was _alive_. I could feel it scuttling along my skin. My heart beat steadily in my chest. I was not nervous – excited, but not nervous. All was especially vivid. I drank in the details: the barbed wire glinting in the moonlight, the oil smeared along the sidewalk, the mole below one of the guard's left eye. He watched me as I approached, alert for a single second before settling into the same old routine.

"Good evening, officers," I said. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw Mako, Bolin, and Asami creep towards them. "I seem to be lost. Mind helping a girl out?"

One of them grunted.

"I'll…take that as a yes. I'm looking for the stadium, do you know where it is? My sister was supposed to meet me at the train station but she never showed up! I've been wandering around for the past two hours, trying to find – "

"It's on the opposite side of the city," the guard said. "Follow the road until you come to sixth, then turn right, and continue until you hit eighteenth. It's huge. You can't miss it."

I clapped my hands together. "Thank you so much! How can I _possibly_ repay you? Oh, I know – this."

I slammed my fist into his gut. Asami clapped her hand over his mouth, blocking his screams, as she pressed her shock glove against his spine. He went down with his eyes rolled up to whites. The other guard had just enough time to say "What the – " before Mako socked him in the back of the head. He fell forward, right into Bolin's knee, and crumpled to the floor with blood spewing from his nose.

"Good work," I said. "Let's go."

We followed Asami into the compound, dumping the bodies behind some bushes on the way in. The compound still had some guards, but Asami knew her way. "I used to sneak out of here all the time when I was a girl," she said as she guided us forward under the shadow of the wall, squeezed between a narrow space created by two rocks, crept on her stomach through a patch of white dragon bush. The entire backyard was a garden stretching all the way to the main house, filled with bamboo, banana leaf trees, moon flowers, sun flowers, and even sakura trees blooming out of season. I breathed in the scent of plum blossoms. A pond sat the in middle of it all, spanned by a white marble bridge, and I imagined Asami and myself standing on it, side-by-side, gazing at the clear yellow moon reflected in the water.

We came to a short, ugly building separate from the main gardens. Built of mildewed wood, it looked like it belonged more in the slums than in the backyard of the richest man alive. The windows were tinted black. There were no guards here. "My father doesn't allow anyone to even come near," Asami said. "This is the first time I've been this close."

"All the more convenient for us." I pushed open the door. Its creaking shattered the air like a tsungi horn. Strange it wasn't locked. "Stay behind me."

"What exactly are we looking for?" Mako said.

"Anything that can tie Hiroshi to the Equalists. Blue prints, maps, T-shirts, or…nothing?"

The workshop was completely empty.

My instinct kicked in like a rabaroo protecting her young. Asami could not have been wrong – the pieces fit too perfectly – but perhaps she had not been right. The floor and walls were clean, recently washed, with parts of the tiles still bearing the dark indentations of furniture. Scratches in the floor panels meant everything had been moved in a hurry – as recently as this afternoon, possibly. They had known we were coming. Which meant all of this was…

Footsteps thudding against dirt. I whirled around and ducked just in time to avoid the jab aimed at the back of my neck. The chi-blocker struck again. I grabbed his wrist and wrenched it backwards. He sank to the floor. More chi-blockers swarmed in from the doorway like spider wasp larva emerging from a carcass, ten, twenty of them, their goggles bright as mirrors in the moonlight. I lashed out blindly, felt my knuckles connect with something soft, something malleable, felt it crunch beneath my fist. The air was hot, stale with the stink of sweat and a raw, rancid smell, like meat left in the sun. Through the haze of green bodysuits I glimpsed Mako and Bolin, back-to-back, surrounded, and Asami in the corner, shock glove spitting sparks. I heard Mako and Bolin's yells and Asami's shouts, higher-pitched, coupled with the hushed, wordless grunts of the chi-blockers, and then:

"Stop! That's my daughter! Don't you dare lay a hand on her!"

The chi-blockers froze. We stood there, panting, as they parted to create a path. Stepping forward was a chi-blocker with an absurd fu manchu mustache that would've been laughable had he not been holding a pair of kali sticks, electrified and ready. At his side stood a shorter and fatter figure, someone I had never met but whose face I had seen a thousand times on newspapers.

"Hiroshi Sato," I spat. "I knew you were a lying, no-good Equalist!"

He ignored me. "Asami!" he called. "Where are you? I won't hurt you. I promise!"

She shoved aside a pair of chi-blockers and stepped forward. I was glad to see that besides a few cuts on her face and a few slashes on her dress, she was in good shape – a fact that the chi-blockers convulsing on the ground could probably testify to. Hiroshi Sato, however, looked as if she had been crawling on the floor with her legs chopped off.

"What's the meaning of this?" he said to the chi-blocker with the mustache. "I _explicitly_ told you not to hurt my daughter!"

"Really? You told them not to hurt me?" Asami said. "Like you working with the Equalists isn't hurting me? Like you lying to me for years isn't hurting me?"

"Sweetie, it was never meant to turn out this way," he said gently. "I wanted to keep you out of this for as long as I could."

"Why?"

"I did it for you," he said, eyes warm – then he looked at me and his face was someone else's. "Criminals like this so-called Avatar and these two Triad gangsters have been corrupting this city for decades. These people killed your mother, the love of my life. They've ruined the world! And the government, the very people who are supposed to be protecting us from them, are even worse. A few yuans in the right pockets and the police will look away from murder. Why should we allow such injustice to continue?All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing. With Amon, we can fix it and build a perfect world together. We can help people like us everywhere!"

"A perfect world? Is that what you call a world where you rule and everybody else is zapped until they're incapable of thinking?"

"What else did Zolt deserve?" Hiroshi growled. "The man had been killing for longer than you've been alive! Half the misery in this city is because of him. Would you rather he be free to continue his evil? Would you rather we send him to the police so they can hold a sham of a trial and let him off with a slap on the wrist? There was no other choice!"

"For someone who hates crime so much, you sure like to deal with criminals," I said. "Does something about platinum and the Triple Threats jog your memory?"

"I am not afraid to stain my hands. Unlike you, I work for a higher purpose," he said coldly. "If I must become evil to defeat a greater evil, then so be it."

"Do you even hear yourself, father?" Asami said, tears glistening in her eyes. "We were so happy together. I thought we would be that way forever."

"We _can_ be happy together. Once we clean the city of its filth, our lives will become peaceful again, even better than before." He held out his hand. "Join us, Asami. This is earlier than I anticipated, but all along I had intended for you to join us. Help us create a better world for everyone."

"No." It was simultaneously the bravest and most ill-advised answer I'd ever heard, trapped in a room with twenty chi-blockers. "If you still love me, father," she continued, "if you _ever_ loved me, let us go."

"So be it," Hiroshi said. The expression on his face almost made me pity him. "Capture them. Do not harm my daughter, or Amon will hear of this. Do what you want with the others."

"Korra, please tell me you have a plan," Mako said.

"Look, can we talk this over?" I said, backing away. "We're civilized people, right? Let's not resort to violence."

The chi-blockers advanced, closing in around us. Bolin stared at them helplessly, while Mako looked like he was trying to decide who to kill first – the chi-blockers or me. Asami stood at the forefront, shielding us, her mouth set in a grim line. I swallowed and wet my lips. I could feel my pulse through my ears. Twenty-four of them against the four of us, more overkill than the Fire Nation's invasion of the Air Nomads. But I'll be damned if I let them roll me over. _That stupid mustache_. As long as I took him down with me, then I'll at least have gotten rid of the world's worst facial hair.

"Come out! We have you surrounded!"

Light flooded in through the windows. From outside came the screeching of cars. Through the doorway I saw figures, indistinct, in the glare of the headlights – but there was one among them I'd recognize even if I was blind and stone-drunk.

I never thought I'd be so glad to see Bei Fong's scarred mug in my life.

"Come out!" the loudspeaker repeated. "Surrender, and you will not be harmed!"

"What's the meaning of this? How did the police find us?" Hiroshi turned to me, gold eyes burning. " _You_. Avatar. You did this. You planned it from the start!"

"I did?" Mako and Bolin stared at me, amazed. "I mean, uh, of course I did."

"Stall them," Hiroshi ordered.

Mustache-man nodded. "Grab the girl. Kill the others – "

I sprang at him. My fist smashed into his jaw – it was the third-most satisfying punch of my life. He reeled backwards. The other chi-blockers were on me in an instant. But Mako and Bolin were on _them_ in an instant. Mako knocked one down while Bolin wrestled another to the ground, whereupon several more piled on top of him. Metalshirts stormed in through the door. It was like being inside a washing machine. I ducked below a chi-blocker's jab, almost tripped over a second chi-blocker, sidestepped a third chi-blocker that charged past me into his own comrade. A pair of wires wrapped around my arm. Cursing, I ripped free just as the chi-blocker came at me, but he still managed to get two shots off on my shoulder. Instantly my arm seized up. With my other arm I blocked his first strike, blocked his second strike, then kicked him in the stomach as he tried for a third. As he went down I smashed my knee into his face. I felt his blood soak to my skin.

Through the chaos I glimpsed mustache-man swinging his kali sticks, knocking down metalshirts like toppling dominos, the air ripe with the smell of burning metal and burning flesh. Bei Fong herself was in the fray, that sadist, and the familiar _fwap_ of brass knuckles punching through flesh made me shudder. I went to help Asami, saw her flip a chi-blocker upside-down and zap him while he was still in mid-air, then decided maybe she didn't need any help. I searched the room for Hiroshi. If I could just get to him, then we could end this immediately.

The earth rumbled.

It started off as a stirring. In an instant it turned into an earthquake. I was thrown off my feet, acquainting my head with the polished metal floor. A short acquaintance, because the floor began to move. I scrambled away as the panels slid back, revealing a rectangular hole, and, emerging from it, a machine that looked like the offspring of a platypus bear and a biplane. Pneumatics hissed beneath burnished green metal. The entire room paused to stare – even the chi-blockers looked surprised, and it was pretty hard to look surprised wearing one of those masks. The machine was roughly human-shaped, so tall the top of it brushed the ceiling, with treads for feet and three-pronged claws for hands, thin metal limbs jutting out of a torso the size of a Satomobile. Atop the torso sat a helmeted head with a glass window, through which I glimpsed the grinning face of Hiroshi.

Well, I'd found him.

The machine barreled forward. Metalshirts leaped out of the way, but one unlucky guy wasn't fast enough – I heard a crunch, like a can being crushed. The machine swung its arms, bulldozing down another dozen metalshirts, along with a few chi-blockers, too, for extra measure. I felt the rattling of its gears in my teeth. The machine raised its claw, and there was a soft _swish_ , like rope being uncoiled. The claw shot all the way across the room, grasping a metalshirt whose expression said "Why did it have to be me?" He had just enough time to scream as the electricity coursed through him.

Uncurling, the claw let go of the smoked corpse. The machine turned its gaze to us.

"What do you think of my latest invention?" Hiroshi's voice resounded from within, low and metallic. "For too long have the just been at the mercy of the evil! With this, the playing fields are finally…equal!"

I didn't have the heart to tell him what a lame pun it had been. Doubt he would've heard me anyway. I crept next to Asami, Mako, and Bolin, trying to stay out of the machine's way as it sent people flying through the air like pai sho tiles at the hands of a sore loser. "What is that thing?" I said.

"I've only seen its blueprint," Asami said. "I thought it was another one of my father's impossible ideas. It shouldn't be able to stand upright. The mechanical stress exceeds the modulus values of all industrial metals – "

"You can marvel it later. How do we defeat it?"

"Defeat it?" Mako said. "Are you crazy? We need to get out of here!"

I ignored him. "Come on, Asami. Think!"

She bit her lip. "The mecha tank's designed to be the ultimate weapon. It's not supposed to be defeated. Its only weak point is the fuel tank – a shock of sufficient voltage should cut off its power supply, but in order to do that we need to get right on top of it, which is absurd – "

"Watch out!"

I threw myself at her, forcing her to the ground as a metalshirt flew by. He collided with wall, tried to stand up, then his body thought better of it.

"Absurd or not, that's going to be us if this goes on any longer," I said. "Get you on top of the machine, got it. Mako and Bolin, you two tell Bei Fong our plan. Tell her to keep it distracted."

"I told you we are _not_ – " Mako wrenched his hair. "I swear this is the last time I _ever_ have anything to do with you."

"I didn't pay you guys to complain," I said. "Unless you want to get turned to bean paste, I suggest we get going."

Asami and I crept forward silently – no easy feat, since the floor was littered with bodies. I winced as the mecha tank picked up two metalshirts and slammed them into each other. It was like watching a toddler playing with tin cans, clanging them together to make music. Mako and Bolin ran up to Bei Fong, or as close as they felt comfortable, anyway, since she stood right in front of the thing, dodging its attacks, refusing to retreat even as its claws came within inches of her. She seemed to realize how critical capturing Hiroshi was; if the Equalists had an army of these things, Amon would be drinking champagne in City Hall within the week. Mako and Bolin shouted desperately over the din, interrupted every other word as it swung its arms. But Bei Fong seemed to get the gist of it. Our eyes met across the battlefield – and she nodded.

We hid as bodies, lying still when the machine's gaze swept past us, moving when its attention was elsewhere. It was the most terrifying game of Redlight, Greenlight I'd ever played. The screech of metal grinding against metal pierced my eardrums. Every time it moved I felt a blast of wind and the earth shook a little, sometimes a lot. This close up, I finally began to realize what Asami meant when she called the plan absurd – trying to climb that thing would be like trying to climb a greased unagi as it was swimming. We came up behind it, very aware that if Hiroshi noticed us, we were dead, or if it decided to move back a few feet, we were dead, or if one of its arms reached behind…well, there were a lot of ways we could die. Luckily, Bei Fong had managed to order the remaining metalshirts, along with Mako and Bolin, into a semicircle in front of it, taking care not to clump up. It was like watching a group of beetle worms take on a badger mole. The mecha tank lashed out with its arms, electricity sparking at the tips of its claws. But it was relatively stationary – and, more importantly, distracted.

I waited for a lull in its movements, then boosted Asami up to its back – not as easy as it sounds, with just one arm. She clung to the fuel tank, looking for a minute like she would be thrown off, but found her footing. Taking out her shock glove, she began to unscrew the cap.

The mecha tank froze. "Who's that?" Hiroshi's voice called. Its arm reached backwards. "You think you're clever, do you – "

I had no choice. I ran in front of it and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"I'm dating your daughter!"

You could've heard a glowfly flap its wings in the silence.

Through the glass I could see Hiroshi's face. For a good five seconds he just stared. Then his eyes drew into a V. His face contorted as if he had swallowed an ash banana, skin and all, blue-green veins bulging out of his forehead. I swear I saw a few hairs turn white. His teeth clenched so tight his jaw vibrated; when he spoke his spit hit the glass.

"I'm going to kill – "

"Just kidding," I said.

Asami placed her shock glove over the cap of the fuel tank.

I'll be honest – I was expecting an explosion. I even had a snappy one-liner prepared. Wasn't that how these things always ended in the movers?

Fortunately for everybody in the room, the mecha-tank simply stopped moving. The whirring of its gears wound down as its arms fell to its sides. Steam shot out of its joints. Red lights flashed within, and something beeped rapidly, incessantly. Hiroshi continued to slam on the levers, but the mecha tank merely rattled like a leaf hanging off its stem. The head popped open, revealing a cockpit filled with so many dials and switches I felt smarter just by looking at it. Hiroshi sat in the middle of it all, staring at me unblinkingly and practicing the venerated art of trying to kill someone by wishing for it hard enough.

"Game over, Hiroshi," I said.

" _You_. What have you done?" He stood up, slamming his fist against metal. But without the microphone, his voice sounded frail and hollow.

"I haven't done anything."

"I'm sorry, father," Asami said softly. Hiroshi whirled around.

"Asami? You?" His voice cracked, then he turned back to me, snarling. "It's all your doing. You turned her against me! Asami, sweetie, can't you see? She's lying to you!"

Shaking her head, Asami turned away.

Two metalshirts climbed the mecha tank and dragged him out. "Unhand me, you sorry excuses for justice!" he shouted. "Where were you the night they killed my wife? You think you've won? This is only the start. Amon has a revolution planned. I am just a cog in the machine. Our army numbers in the thousands. In our ranks is everyone who has ever been wronged. Those who do not join us will be crushed. This city will be purged!"

"Much less threatening without the mecha tank," I said.

"You'll be the first, Avatar," he snarled. "You think you're clever for bringing the police into this? All along, you played right into my hands and you didn't even realize it!"

"Wow, truly a masterful plan." I gestured around me. Chi-blockers littered the floor. Whatever few that were still standing were handcuffed and being led outside. Unfortunately, I didn't see mustache-man – looks like the world would suffer his crime against fashion for a little longer. The workshop was on the verge of crumbling entirely. The mecha tank had torn out entire sections of the wall, revealing the once-beautiful Sato estate, trampled by police cars. In the distance, the mansion was lit up like a Glacier Spirits Festival display. Police lights flashed in the night.

"I was talking about Lau, you fool! Haven't you figured it out yet?" He grinned, triumph flashing over his face. "I was the one who hired you to take him out! That old idiot had been getting too mouthy, too reckless. He was a puppet of the police and he didn't even realize it. In another week our whole organization would've come crashing down. But we couldn't just kill him – that would attract far too much attention. We needed a third party, somebody who could sneak right under the nose of the police and take him down before they did. That's you, Avatar. You played your role marvelously! _You_ helped us!"

"Thanks for the business," I said dryly.

"Get him out of here," Bei Fong said.

"You cannot win! So long as a single man draws breath, we will never be defeated. When a politician accepts a bribe, we are there. When a policeman uses the law for his own benefit, we are there. When a wronged man prays for justice, we are there. You cannot defeat us – we are everyone, we are everywhere. We are air. We are the water you drink. We are the blood in your veins and your blood spilling on the pavement. We are immortal! Amon is immortal! Equality for all!"

He was still shouting when they led him away. I watched his stout figure stumble in the cuffs, glasses hanging off one side of his face, hair plastered to his head with sweat and blood. He was a crazy, selfish, delusional egomaniac that had almost killed me – and yet…I remembered a picture I saw, once, in a magazine somewhere, long ago. A man and a woman and a girl, dressed in clothes not too fine, not too shabby, and their smile told you everything there was to know about their future. A great wrong had been committed, not tonight, not even decades ago; it stretched back thousands and thousands of years to the start of humanity itself. A shred of happiness – was that too much to ask?

"What're you dreaming about?" Bei Fong said. "You're coming with us, too."

"What?"

"We found you in the middle of an Equalist base, what do you mean _what_? Now, are you going to come quietly, or do I have to break a few bones again?"

"Lead the way," I said, following her out. I didn't have it left in me to argue. Not enough bones left, either. The night was quiet, late even for Republic City. I breathed in the air, crisp as squid tentacle soup still frozen in the pond. Mako, Bolin, and Asami filed out behind us. Mako was trying to convince one of the metalshirts to let them go; Bolin looked like he was trying very hard to stay awake. And Asami was quiet, looking off into the distance.

"Look," I said, "they had nothing to do with this. Asami was against her father from the start. Those other two guys, they don't know anything. I just roped them along – "

"I know. I gathered as much." Bei Fong sighed. "It's just procedure, kid."

"Thanks."

She choked, doubling over.

"Don't be so melodramatic," I said, feeling my face grow hot. "I mean, it was lucky you guys found us when you did. I'd be decorating the bottom of Yue Bay otherwise."

Bei Fong snorted. "You think it was luck? I had you followed the minute you left the station on bail." Seeing my disbelieving stare, she brought her hand to her face. "What do you take me for? You really think I bought your story about the fire ferret? I knew you had been looking for Zolt. I knew Asami had contacted you. I strung two-and-two together. The only reason I let you go at all was so I could have you followed."

"Seems like I'm getting played a tsungi horn tonight."

"Don't worry about it," Bei Fong said, punching my shoulder. "You did good, kid. For the first time in your life."

That last part was unnecessary, I thought as I stepped into the police car, door slamming shut behind me. But I'll call it a victory.

* * *

I was nursing a bottle in the office when she came in. The lid had just been closed on my trial – a mere afterthought to the Hiroshi scandal – and I was drinking some celebratory shots of sake for the fact that I wasn't sitting in Boiling Rock right now. The evidence against me had been stacked higher than Harmony Tower, but once it got leaked (and by leaked, I mean I had spoken some choice words to a journalist and given him a big wad of cash) that I had been one of the heroes involved in the thrilling capture of Hiroshi, jailing me would've sunk the judge's reputation faster than a swimming buffalo yak. It scraped the last dredges of my bank account, too, but Bei Fong's face was compensation enough.

So there I was, about to down another shot, when there came three knocks upon my door. "Come in!" I said.

I had been expecting her – I hadn't seen her since we parted at the station after Hiroshi's arrest three days ago. I had looked for her in the newspapers, browsing headlines that read "Hiroshi Jailed: Gorgeous Daughter Refuses to Comment" and "Asami Sato: Co-Conspiracist?" None of them, I suspected, even got close to the truth. Well, except the gorgeous part. She wore a black jacket over a red shirt open at the neck, revealing the tip of a purple bruise snaking below her collarbone. The purple brought out the green of her eyes.

"Hey there," I said. "You're looking snazzy as always. How're things?"

She took a seat across from me. "Alright, I suppose."

"Not everyday your father's ousted as an Equalist."

"I guess not."

"Better late than never, right?"

"Right."

"Things are the same as always over here, if you were wondering," I said, trying to put as much cheeriness into my voice as I could. Poor girl needed it. "Trial found me innocent, you'll be glad to know. Not completely innocent – I got two hundred hours of community service over the next six months – but it beats the hell out of Boiling Rock. You should've seen Bei Fong's face."

She smiled. "I'm glad."

"Your concern touches my heart. By the way, Mako and Bolin – you remember them, right? The two guys from the other night? – they got new jobs. With the metalshirts, no less. Bei Fong said she was impressed by their fighting skills. They jumped at the chance. Police work pays a lot better than factory work, and it's probably safer, too, without all the chemicals or heavy machinery. Those bastards refuse to give me the money I paid them, though, some help _they_ turned out to be. Says that's over and done with. Who was the one directly responsible for their job upgrade? Some thanks _I_ get."

She laughed. "That's really great. I'm happy for them."

"And what about you?"

She leaned back in the chair, staring at the mildew-laced ceiling. I glimpsed the purple bags under her eyes disguised expertly by makeup. The whites of her eyes were webbed with red.

"Sometimes I think it's all a conspiracy theory," she said. "That wasn't my father the other night, he was put up to it, somebody will come in and tell me that we got it all wrong."

"That's not going to happen," I said gently.

"I know." She brought her legs up to the chair, hugging them tight. "After mom died, we were all each other had. Even after he made it big, he never neglected me. He was trying to compensate for my mother, I think, and sometimes he overcompensated – " here her eyes grew misty " – but I never felt like I lacked something all the other kids had. He went to all my school plays, did you know that? – those awful, silly things, and at the end he'd always tell me that I was the greatest mover star in the world. For eighteen years, I thought he was the greatest person who ever lived. Now I find out he'd been lying to me the whole time."

"He never lied to you."

"He never told me the truth."

I reached over and squeezed her hand. "Everything he did, he did for you."

She stared at my hand, brown, callused, and I think she squeezed back, just a little. "They wouldn't let me see him. Said it was a matter of security. I'd need to wait at least four years."

"So will you?"

"Will I what?"

"See him."

"No." She paused. "But now I'm not so sure."

"Promise me," I said. "Consider it the last term of the contract between detective and client. Promise me that when the four years are up, you'll see him."

She hesitated – so slight it was hardly there at all.

"I promise."

Roll credits, I thought. And yet there was no fade to black, no swelling of music, no round of applause. Life was rarely so accommodating. Outside the window, the city groaned, whirred, clanked, chortled. Somewhere out there Amon was hiding. That man walking his dog – was he an Equalist? What secrets did the woman with the red umbrella hide? Hiroshi may have been behind us, but I felt as if I had just set foot on the first stepping stone across the pond. The way was slippery, the water rising, the wind pushing from all sides. One slip and I would join the others floating face-down in the water. With every step the stone behind me would sink, leaving me with no way back, just a treacherous way forward – and I was already in.

Asami stood up, letting go of my hand. She took a big breath. "Speaking of the contract – about the payment. I'm sorry. I can't pay you. When my father was arrested, they seized all of his holdings. I don't have a fen left to my name."

It wasn't entirely unexpected. Hiroshi's fortune was probably being picked to bits by every politician with half a claim. I tried not to let my disappointment show. Seaprune stew, here I come. "Don't worry about it. I'm just glad you're safe."

"So I was hoping I could pay you with my body."

I swallowed. "W-What do you mean?"

"I thought we'd gotten pretty…close over these last few days, wouldn't you agree?" She sat on the desk, leaning forward just enough for me to see the tip of her bra – black lace. "You did such a good job, I thought it'd be awfully unfair if you didn't get _some_ sort of reward. I don't have any money left, but there are other ways to pay a debt, if you catch my drift. I think you'll find it to be…more than satisfactory. How about it?"

I licked my lips. She inched closer. Her perfume was fire lily. "I-I'm fine with that," I finally managed.

"Great! I'll get started right away. First things first – this place could use some tidying up. And open the window! Cigarette smoke is bad for your health."

She bustled around my office, picking up trash, rearranging the shelves, moving the furniture.

I stared.

"What?"

"I'm talking about becoming your partner!" She smiled coyly. "What did you think I meant?"

"I thought – I mean – " I sank my head into my hands. Heaven had been so close – right there, in my palm! A partner? It was…a start, I thought, watching her dust off the coat rack and hang up her jacket on it. Actually, a partner didn't sound so bad, now that I thought about it (though the _other_ payment was infinitely more preferable). Having somebody to watch your back was more precious than gold in this city, especially now that I had a target painted on my back for every Equalist, Triad gangster, and metalshirt to see. It was a dangerous world out there. Yes, why _not_ a partner? Korra & Asami, Avatar P.I. It had a nice ring to it.

"Asami, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship."

* * *

A/N: I hope none of you are too disappointed with the abruptness of the ending. All along I had never intended to take it further than this. This isn't the kind of story I usually write, but it was a fresh change of pace and I had a lot of fun writing it. Thanks for reading!


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